


The Flower that Blooms in Adversity

by ThePancakePenguin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Tries really hard, BAMF Michelle Jones, Ben Parker Lives, Brother-Sister Relationships, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Harry Osborn is a little shit, Jaquelin Jones is best mom, Michelle and Caleb are ride or die, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, and happy, and he is great, but he can be a jerk too, but he isn't the best, but she also has Feelings, he's literally a ball of sunshine, so is May, too many tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-05-05 02:26:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14607222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePancakePenguin/pseuds/ThePancakePenguin
Summary: ....is the most rare and beautiful of all.Michelle wishes to blossom to her fullest potential.There are many challenges she faces.(Or "What if Michelle was bitten by the spider")(1/17/19 ON HIATUS)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first time I've written for MCU, so I hope you enjoy! This is basically an AU where Michelle becomes Spider-Man/Woman (what will her superhero name be??? You'll have to read to find out!)
> 
> The first few chapters will mainly focus on building up Michelle and her family's characters, as well as an origin story. I've decided to blend Spider-Man's origins into the new characters, but I hope I do a good job in still making the story unique!
> 
> Also, a huge thanks to [spideyandstark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideyandstark/pseuds/spideyandstark) for the encouragement in posting this! I don't think this would have ever seen the light of day without their kind words :)
> 
> Enough rambling. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snippets of Michelle's early life

Michelle watches the screen with rapt attention. The low light of the movie is difficult to properly see with the morning sun shining into the living room, but it doesn’t bother her. She’s seen this movie many times, but her baby brother Caleb has only seen it twice, and he fell asleep during Michelle’s favorite song the first two times, so he has to see it again. Mommy says he’ll stay awake because he’s just turned two, and he’ll want to watch his big sister’s favorite movie.

“Caleb! Are you watching!”

Her brother makes a happy gurgle and claps his hands, wiggling in Daddy’s lap.

“He’s watching Baby, don’t worry. I won’t let him fall asleep like last time.”

The screen lights up as the soldier sets the massive lantern on fire, causing a chain reaction of signal fires lighting up along the wall. The soldier bravely stares down the hooded figure.

_“Now all of China knows you’re here!”_

The hooded figure grins, grabbing the flag and hanging it over the flames, his pet hawk landing on his massive shoulder.

_“Perfect.”_

Michelle lets out a loud gasp, turning to her brother to see his reaction. “Caleb! Caleb! Did you see! The bad guy is attacking China! Who’s gonna stop him!”

Her brother is chewing on the sleeve of his new onesie, staring at the screen as the dark gray is quickly replaced by the bright reds of the Emperors’ Palace. Her daddy places a hand in her lap, making her sit down on the couch like a Big Girl. Michelle sits and continues watching her favorite movie.

The phone rings in the other room, and Mommy calls from the kitchen for Daddy to get it, she’s busy making Michelle’s breakfast. Daddy gets up and takes Caleb with him. Michelle wants to tell him that Caleb hasn’t seen the movie, so he’s going to miss some of it, but the first song starts, and the pretty ladies are pushing Mulan into the bathtub.

Mushu has just sent Mulan off to her first day of training as a soldier when Daddy comes back. He pauses the movie and crouches down in front of her.

“Hey Baby, Daddy just got a call, he’s got to go to work.”

That’s not right. Daddy said he’d be staying home today, so they could watch Mulan and build a blanket fort and have peanut butter sandwiches for lunch even though Mommy said she can’t have them every single day. Why is he leaving?

“I’ll be back tonight, but there’s something important they need me for. Okay?”

She pouts but knows that Daddy’s job is important and that he’d never leave if he didn’t have too.

“Okay, Daddy. I love you!”

“I love you too. Bye Bye.” He kisses her wild hair and stands up, going to the kitchen to say goodbye to Mommy.

Michelle climbs off the couch and does Kung Fu like the soldiers on screen.

 

* * *

 

Daddy has been coming back later and later, and each time, he’s more and more tired. He hardly plays with her anymore because he’s sleeping so much, but Mommy tells her that Daddy is working extra hard at his job right now, so he needs more rest, so Michelle is sad but understands.

After a while, he starts coming back at the time he used to and starts playing with Michelle again. He still looks tired, but he’s smiling more, and he gives her big hugs and lots of tickles whenever he wakes up from a nap.

Today is a very special day, and she knows because Mommy makes her waffles with lots of whipped cream and strawberry sauce with a candle on top. Today is her birthday! Mommy tells her she’s turning five, which is the official start of being a Big Girl.

The breakfast isn’t the best part! Mommy helps her into her favorite dress, a little blue one with white polka dots and little ducks along the bottom, and tells her they’re going to the park! Her Mommy called the mommies of some of her friends at preschool, and Daddy asked some of his friends if their kids wanted to go too.

This is going to be the biggest birthday ever!

She and Jaspreet are running from Carlos in the grass. He’s It, and no one wants to be It during tag, especially the Birthday Girl. Carlos stops chasing the two girls and starts going after Tyler instead, letting Michelle catch her breath.

“Michelle! Sweetheart, come over here please!”

Michelle runs up to her daddy and lets him pick her up. He turns to face another man standing next to a woman holding a little boy on her hip.

“Michelle, this is Richard and Mary, they work with me, and this is their son, Peter. He’s five, just like you!”

Michelle waves and Peter just ducks his head into his mommy’s neck, making the woman chuckle and set him down on the grass. “Go on Petey, have fun with some of the other kids. I’m sure they’d love to play with you.”

“Yeah kiddo, go ahead. Your mother and I need to talk to Mr. Jones.”

Daddy's smile falters, but Michelle knows not to ask about Adult Things, so she takes Peter’s hand and leads her to where the rest of her friends are. Now Cassie is It, and she makes a mad dash to Peter and taps him on the shoulder. Michelle quickly let's go and starts to run.

Peter looks confused and a little sad. “I thought you wanted to play?”

Does he not know how to play tag?

“No silly goose! You’re It! You have to tag someone so they’re It!” She walks back to her and holds out her arm. “Here, tag me, I’ll show you how it works.”

Peter taps her and takes a step back, and Michelle searches the group for a target. Her eyes settle on Alex, and she charges for him. He shrieks and runs away, laughing.

They keep playing for a while, and Peter has just tagged Maisie when her Mommy says it’s time for cake. He has a huge smile on his face and is running to his daddy to tell him all about Tag.

The cake is vanilla with red and green frosting.

 

* * *

 

It’s two days after Christmas, and Michelle is rolling a ball to Caleb in his playpen when she hears her parents' room slam shut. That’s against the Rules, so she goes to remind them of that, but stops when she hears sniffling.

Is Daddy crying?

She presses her ear to the door and hears Mommy and Daddy talking quietly. She grabs a few pillows to reach the door and opens it just a peep.

“-ane crash. Officially it's been dubbed an accident, but S.H.I.E.L.D isn't so sure. Two agents sent on an espionage mission to Romania just to have their secure flight crash on their way back? If that isn't foul play, Jackie, I don't know what is.”

“What about Peter?”

“He's currently with his Aunt and Uncle in Forest Hills, but I'm not sure if he's going to stay there or be put in the system. Hopefully, they let him stay, I can't even imagine what he's going through. And during the holidays, no less.

“I'm so sorry, Arthur.”

Michelle can see her parents hug, and she quietly closes the door.

 

* * *

 

A month after Michelle eavesdropped on her parents, her daddy walks into her room and sits down next to her on her carpet. Michelle puts down Omar the Camel and looks up at him. His eyes are red.

“Hi, Michelle. Can I talk to you for a bit?”

She nods and turns to face him. He's wringing his hands in his lap.

“So, you know that Daddy's job is very important right?”

Michelle nods.

“Well, I was just told by my boss that I'm being moved to a…. different facility, in California. I’ve been asked to do this job because he trusts that I can do it well. I’m going to be gone for a few months at a time for a few years, but I’ll visit anytime I can, okay?” He holds her small hand in his, his dark blue eyes meeting her warm brown ones. “I love you and Caleb so much Michelle, and I just want to make sure you know that. I’m not going to be gone because I don’t, and if I could do my job from here I would, but I have a….I have a duty that I’ve been trusted with, and it’s to keep people safe. Especially you, your mom, and your brother. Do you understand?

She doesn’t want her Daddy to leave, it makes her really sad, but she knows Daddy is sad too. “I get it, Daddy. I love you, and I’ll miss you.”

Daddy gives a wet laugh and gathers her in his arms. “I love you too, Baby. I’ll miss you too.”

 

* * *

 

“Michelle! Food!”

Michelle adjusts her birthday sash and runs down the stairs, meeting Mom in the kitchen. Mom is wiping her damp hands on a towel and gestures to the counter where her lunch is. She clambers up the bar stool and digs in.

“So, how old are you turning again? I can’t seem to remember,” Mom says, reaching into the fruit bowls for a few grapes.

“She’s eight, Mama,” Caleb supplies, peeling the skin off his orange.

“Oh right! Sorry Michelle,” Mom laughs at her daughter’s pout. “So, are you excited to go, Central Park, today? I don’t remember the last time we went as a family.”

“Yeah! I wanna go to that big statue of Alice in Wonderland again! I got on top of her head!” Michelle announces, practically inhaling her food in excitement.

“I don’t like going that high. Plus it’s fun to hide under the giant mushroom,” Caleb replies.

“Well, that’s cause you’re a scaredy pants,” Michelle hops off her stool with her plate and goes to throw away her scraps, ignoring Caleb’s _“Hey!”_

Mom’s phone rings and her eyes light up when she sees who’s calling.

“Hi, honey!” She answers loudly, grabbing her children’s attention.

“Is that Dad!” Caleb shouts, bouncing on his stool.

“Great, you?.... Oh, that’s wonderful! Do you want to talk to her now?.... Okay,” Her mom hands her the phone.

“Dad!” She exclaims, scampering into the living room to sit on the couch.

_“Hey Baby! How’s my favorite Birthday Girl doing?”_

“Good, I’m so glad you called! We’re going to the park later!”

_“Oh yeah? Central Park? You gonna ride one of the swans?”_

“I don’t know, but we're going to that big statue of Alice so I can climb it! Caleb is too scared, but I’m going to try and get him up there anyway.”

_“Aw, that’s sounds so fun Baby. Hey, guess what, I have another surprise for you.”_

“Really? What is it?”

“It’s right here,” a voice behind her says.

She turns around with a gasp and sees Dad standing in the foyer, arms open. She runs to him, squealing with delight.

 

* * *

 

It’s near the end of the day, and the Jones family is now in the last part of Michelle’s Birthday; looking at the city from the top of the Rockefeller Center. The chilly November wind makes her rosy cheeks hurt, but she doesn’t really care, because Dad is here for her birthday!

He pulls her back from pressing her nose into the glass and leans down so his face is level with hers.

“I’ve got one more piece of news Michelle. There’s some talk that the company I’m working with right now might set up a location back in New York in a few years, so I’ll finally be able to stay with you guys again! It’s just a thought right now, but I’m pretty sure my boss will approve, he grew up here, I’m sure he'd love to come back.” He points to the Empire State building. “I bet it’ll be even taller than that, Mr. Stark like to go big.”

She looks out over the shining light of Manhattan and hugs her dad by the waist.

“Thanks for coming for my birthday Dad.”

 

* * *

 

She watching cartoons when a Breaking News interrupts.

_“TONY STARK MISSING AFTER ATTACK IN AFGHANISTAN: MORE AT 8:00”_

She turns to her mom, who has a hand to her mouth in shock.

“Dad’s gonna be gone for a while, isn’t he?”

 

* * *

 

Tony Stark has been back in the U.S. for six months, but Dad still hasn’t come home. Once a month they get a phone call, but it’s not enough.

Michelle misses her dad.

Mom has the news on, she and Caleb are sitting at the dining table with mugs of cocoa and watching a man talk to a crowd of people. Apparently, there was a huge accident in Malibu and Dad’s work was involved with it.

The news shows clips of the event. Two robots are slamming into each other. The red and gold one is really fast, but the big silver one seems much stronger, knocking the smaller robot around.

It looks pretty scary, but also pretty cool.

She watches the man Michelle has learned is Tony Stark, her dad’s boss, steps to the podium and begins to speak. Most of it is about things she doesn’t quite understand or care about until she hears his final statement.

_“The truth is….. I am Iron Man.”_

The people in the crowd stand up and start yelling, and Mr. Stark is ushered off stage. A few people in suits don’t appear to be very happy with him.

“That is so cool!” Caleb shouts.

 

* * *

 

Flushing Meadows is only a few minutes by car from Briarwood. She can hear the destruction happening outside, and if she looks out the window, she can see Iron Man and War Machine flying in the air.

“Michelle! Come back here!”

Her mother grabs her arm and takes her downstairs into her mom’s bedroom, making her crouch beside the bed.

It’s scary being that close to danger.

Iron Man will protect them.

She wishes her dad could protect them too.

 

* * *

 

A few days later she hears stories of a big green monster attacking Harlem.

She wants her dad.

 

* * *

 

She’s just tried on a new skirt when she hears screaming and explosions outside. Mom tells her and Caleb to stay in the dressing room while she goes to check out what’s going on. Her mom rushes back inside a few seconds later and grabs the two children, running to the exit.

They get outside and there are even more screams and explosions. People are bumping into each other, so Michelle tightens her grip on Mom’s arm. She sees things flying overhead and window from the tall buildings collapsing, glass raining down. One shard lands on her left shoulder and pain sparks along her neck. She ignores it and continues running, her mom pulling her and Caleb down the steps and into the subway station.

There are police and doctors hastily organizing people and treating those wounded. Once they settle against a wall, Mom starts calling for someone to treat her.

Caleb sees the blood staining her shirt and throws up on the skirt from the store she didn’t pay for.

She wants her dad.

 

* * *

 

It’s a few weeks after the Incident that Dad finally comes home. He gathers the family in a big hug and sits them all down at the dining table.

“I know I haven’t been here like I should have, and I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I can’t tell you everything, but what I can tell you is that I’m back. I’m going to be here from now on.” He looks at Michelle. “Baby, remember when I told you Daddy’s work was going to have a building in Manhattan someday? Well, it’s finally happened. I’m now working at the Avengers Tower in Midtown."

“I thought you worked with Stark Industries?” She knows that Iron Man is an Avenger, but why would Dad switch jobs if SI is still around?

“I do, Michelle, but I also work with the government, and they've based the new facility in the city.” He gives them a hopeful smile. “I know it’ll be hard, but I just want you to know that I’ve always wanted to be the best father I could for you two. Now that I finally have the chance….Will you let me?”

Caleb stands to give Dad a hug, but Michelle can’t seem to do it.

She still loves him though, and she’s so happy he’s back.

“Of course, Dad.”

 

* * *

 

It’s been nearly year since her Dad has been back, and he’s been true to his word. He still goes on business trips, but they’re only a week or two long and far less frequent. He cooks dinner every other night when he’s home and has gone to Caleb’s plays and Michelle’s science fair presentation and the art showcase they had at school.

It’s nice to feel like normal family.

A melodic ring hums through the waiting room, and both her and Caleb tense up in their chairs. Could that be….?

Their answer comes nearly an hour later. Dad power walks through the large door of the hospital wing, a bright, watery smile on his face.

“You kids wanna come and meet your baby sister?”

They scramble from their seats and follow their dad to the hospital room. Mom is sweaty and tired and holding a small pink bundle in her arms. The only sound in the room is a soft squalling.

The kids walk up to the bed and lean over to see the baby. Her eyes are closed and she’s jerkily moving her little arms. Her face is bright red and damp.

She’s the most beautiful thing Michelle has ever seen.

“Michelle, Caleb, meet your little sister Delilah.”

It’s wonderful to feel like a normal family.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle takes the first step into highschool, and a mistep into a universe bigger than she'd ever imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for the feedback! I'm really happy to be posting this chapter, because we're finally starting to get the ball rolling! Hope you enjoy!

High school is weird.

In some ways, it's not too different than middle school; get up at an unreasonable hour to go to a place you hate with people you don't really like. But, it's the little things that she notices. It's how teachers tend to leave you high and dry because _“you're going to be adults in 'x’ amount of years, so you need to start acting like one”_ and the fact that for the most part no one really gives a shit.

There are plenty of perks though. Like, she has way more control of her schedule, free reign on most of the things she wants to do, and the best part is that no one goes to high school with the mindset _“I'm coming here to make friends!”_ The general attitude is _“I’m only here because the law demands it and the American education system is flawed beyond repair so I’m just trying to get by,”_ which is something Michelle can get behind.

It’s not all doom and gloom though. Some people do have human decency still, like the decathlon team. A club dedicated to nerds isn’t something that most think would be very social, but Michelle finds herself pleasantly surprised. Her fellow classmates make things it clear that they respect her boundaries as the “super intelligent loner”, but are always making sure that freshman like herself are welcomed. The captain, Cambria, makes a small speech at the beginning of the first practice about how glad she is to have new members, and that she hopes the team will have a great year with so many new faces.

That is, if three out of ten people are _“many new faces.”_

The newcomers are as follows: herself, the quiet and snarky one, Ned Leeds, the upbeat and kind of ditzy one, and Peter Parker, your run-run-of-the-mill shy and awkward one. The three of them are orientated as well as three losers joining a bigger group of losers can, and the team welcomes them with open arms.

Like high school as a whole, Michelle isn’t quite sure what to make of her team.

The seniors are definitely the top dogs, but Miriam and Cambria treat the three freshmen more like their own children that need guidance, while Dmitri acts like they’re his younger siblings he can give noogies too and make outdated jokes with.

Liz, the only junior, is kind and the friendliest out of them all, inviting everyone to sit with her at lunch and offers to tutor for people who are struggling.

The sophomores are….interesting. Abe is constantly cracking jokes and teasing the other members, most often Flash, who makes himself an easy target with his ego and constant attempts to impress, and Harry….

Well, he’s Harry.

He’s not exactly what she’d expected of the son of Norman Osborn, which she’s thankful for. He’s confident, but not always to the point of arrogance. He’s pretty empathetic for someone from a privileged background and is always eager to please. In the two months she’s gotten to know him, she can only recall a few times where he showed off his wealth, and they were all for the benefit of others.

A great example of this is the announcement he’s just made to the rest of the team.

“Sup guys! I have some great news! So, with some haggling with my dad and some long talks with some of the scientists, I’ve gotten us a day to visit Oscorp!”

The group erupts with excited chattering, and Mr. Harrington waves a hand to get them to settle down.

“The trip will be next week on Monday, and admission is completely free. Since our group isn’t big enough to qualify as a school group, we’ll have to join the tour with some of the interns and other visiting schools with the same class size. I hope you guys are excited, because I told my dad that we’re good enough to go to Nationals next year, so uh….don’t let me down? Thanks.”

Michelle seems to be the only one not interested in visiting the biotech company. At the lunch table, her classmates are asking for more details on the tour and what Oscorp actually research, Peter the most talkative she’s ever seen. Harry and Peter seem to click that day, and Harry quickly becomes the official third member of what Michelle has now dubbed _“The Three Stooges Minus the Humor or Charm”_ , spending his time with Ned and Peter talking about whatever nerd things they do.

Michelle just reads her books, doodles in her margins, and remains invisible.

 

* * *

 

 

Next Monday comes quickly, and the decathlon team is piling onto a bus to Lower Manhattan. Michelle has been to the Business District a few times, but actually walking into the building is bizarre. The people around her are dressed in nice shirts and dress pants, or simple blouses and skirts. She’s not one to care about appearances, but standing in the lobby of Oscorp in ripped jeans, her mom’s old varsity jacket, and her hair a mess under her beanie makes her feel misplaced. The feeling persists even after Harry assures the group that visitors aren’t required to be in dress code.

The guide gives Harry a fist bump and encourages them to take photos of things that are indicated to be freely accessible on the tour. Michelle takes this as an opportunity to get some experience with recording her research. If she’s going to be the Anderson Cooper of her generation, then she has to take every chance she can to practice her reporting skills.

The tour takes them through the many labs, and the guide tells them all about their accomplishments in stem cell research, transfusion, and biodegradable materials. Whenever cameras are prohibited, Michelle quickly stuffs her phone in her pocket while it’s recording, hoping that the audio will still be useful. And hey, maybe if she shows the final product to Harry, he could see about getting her a spot on Oscorp’s PR team.

The tour group is currently applauding for a demonstration of biodegradable cables when something catches Michelle’s eyes in the back of the lab. Two scientists are carrying a large glass container with a family of bunnies into a back room.

She feels something hot flash through her gut. It’s no shock that Oscorp practices animal testing, but she can’t believe that she and the rest of her team have been celebrating it for the past hour.

Lucky for her, the tour group begins to move on just as the scientists have deposited the test subjects and have left the room. She makes sure she’s at the back of the crowd and close to the wall as they move, waiting for the perfect moment. As they make a turn down a hallway, Michelle presses herself to the wall and pries the door open, quietly slipping inside.

She turns from the closed door and is met with a nearly vacant lab. She sees rows and rows of cages and quickly pulls out her phone, getting wide framed shots of the whole room. There are cats, dogs, rabbits, lizards, snakes….too many other animals to count. Michelle paces down the lines taking everything in. None of the animals seem to be in pain or affected in any way from experimentation, but that could simply mean that these are the subjects who survived.

She gets to the end of the room and stops in front of a large cylindrical case. Its lighting is low, so she can’t make out much, but from the multitude of subjects and the quick scuttering, she makes an assumption that they’re insects. She shivers a little, the thought of them escaping making her extremely uncomfortable. But, there’s so much to unpack from this room, and she can’t just back out because she has the willies.

She continues along the back and faces a wall lined with small glass boxes. Some of them are completely whited out from some sort of substance from inside, and the ones she can see into, she discovers a multitude of spiders, ranging from size, species, and color.

Now, she doesn’t have much experience with spiders, but she has serious doubts that any naturally occurring ones have red and blue markings. Or fangs that large. She gets closer to the glass and waits for her phone lens to adjust when she sees something odd.

The glass container in front of her labeled _111501_ is empty.

She plucks it from the shelf and studies it. Turning it around she finds a hole in the base, and a thick shard of glass the same size dangling from it by a thin string of spider web.

She hears footsteps coming down the hall and scrambles to put the container back on the shelf and ducks under one of the white tables, grabbing one of the legs for support. The footsteps grow louder, accompanied by multiple voices. She can easily identify Mr. Harrington’s roll call through the door, and she sighs with relief. All she has to do is creep out the door at the perfect moment and her teacher will be none the wiser.

She’s about to stand when she feels a sharp pinch on her left hand.

She jumps, hitting her head against the underside of the table and falling to the floor. She shakes her head and can barely make out something tumbling off of her hand and onto her leg, but she quickly reacts and brings her hand down to smack it.

The strike is somehow strong enough to kill the spider, and she swipes the slightly crumpled body onto the floor and inspects her attacker.

The spider is about the size of a golf ball, and could easily be mistaken for one, given its porcelain coloring. The only true identifying part of the spider is the odd red shape on its underbelly, and she sighs with relief. They must have just done some genetic coding to a black widow to give it an albino coloring. She remembers a lesson about spiders back in elementary school, her teacher reassuring the class that when a widow bites, it hardly ever injects venom and that the bites are completely self-treatable.

She stands and makes her way to the door, shaking out her hand. She slips out just as her name is called, and by the lack of reaction, it seems her absence was unnoticed.

Just like usual.

 

* * *

 

By the end of the day, she’s all but forgotten about the bite. She finishes an essay in class and feels oddly perky, and definitely hungry. She hopes it’s Dad’s turn to cook tonight, she’s been craving his fried rice for almost a week.

As soon as she leaves school, her good mood plummets

She gets on her train and finds that the fast movement makes her nauseous. The screech of the tracks grates her ears, and the overhead lights make spots dance under her eyelids. She squeezes them shut and tries to block out everything for the rest of the ride. Only three more stops until she’s at the Briarwood station, and then only fifteen minutes walk home.

She hears the screaming of a baby and tries to suppress a groan. She cracks open an eye and sees a woman not too much older than heherse bouncing the baby and shushing him. Her hair is a frizzy mess, and she looks nearly dead on her feet.

After some contemplation, she decides she could use some good karma and begins to stand.

Her right hand is stuck to the seat.

She sits back down and tries to lift her right hand, but it won’t move. Her wrist and arm bend in the action, but her hand remains in contact with the metal. She doesn’t feel anything under her hand, so she knows that it can’t be stuck by some outside force.

She gives a few hard tugs and her hand comes free, flying up and smacking her face. She shakes her head, stands, and offers her seat. The young woman smiles gratefully and sits, leaving Michelle to hesitantly grab onto the pole in the middle of the cart.

Her stop comes, and Michelle is able to remove her hand without issue. She walks off the train onto the platform -

And she’s on her porch.

What?

She looks around, confused, but the turn makes her head swim. Did she black out? She was feeling fine on the train, if not a little irritated.

Too tired and woozy to contemplate the issue any longer, she fumbles for her keys and enters her house.

She gives a distracted _“hello”_ to her family and makes a beeline for the kitchen. She opens the pantry and grabs the first few things she sees; a box of cheerios, some dried mango, graham crackers, and a bag of almonds.

She’s never been this hungry before.

“Whatcha doin with all that, pumpkin?” her mom asks her.

“I’ve got a lot of homework, don’t have time to get real dinner,” she fibs, adjusting her bag and walking up the stairs.

She hears her dad call for her, but she ignores it. So what if it’s only three-thirty, she’s is going to eat and then sleep for the next eight years.

 

* * *

 

 

She wakes up the next afternoon with the worst headache of her life.

She gets out of bed after a few minutes, still mostly asleep, and goes into her and Caleb’s bathroom. She opens the medicine cabinet and the door rips off its hinges.

She’s awake now.

She stares dumbly at the door in her hands, uncurling her fingers around the handle. It’s still sticking to her palm. She gives a small shake and it clatters to the floor.

She carefully reaches for the bottle of painkillers and pops the cap off. She drops two into her hand and grabs her Finding Nemo cup, and carefully turns the faucet. She swallows her painkillers and holds her hands close to her, walking out of the bathroom and back into bed.

 

* * *

 

She wakes up a few hours later to her mom brushing her hair.

“Hi Baby Girl, how are you feeling.”

And because she is a genius, Michelle’s muddled mind decides that the perfect response is “Like shit.”

She can feel her mom's glare at her word choice, but instead of commenting on it, she sighs and reaches for the thermometer on Michelle's nightstand, handing it to her and letting her put it under her tongue.

When it beeps, it shows the numbers 103.5.

“Well, no wonder, you’ve got a crazy fever,” her mom says, heading to her door. “I’m gonna get you some crackers and ice chips, you think you can stomach that?”

The very thought of food is repulsing right now, but she doesn’t want to worry her mom, so she just lazy gives a thumbs up.

She’s awoken again a few minutes later by her mom again and slowly gnaws on the ice and crackers.

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, the next morning is filled with clarity. She gets out of bed and showers, nearly ripping off the curtain, and tries to get back in a routine. She’s already woken up too late to go to school, but she’s not worried about that right now.

She finishes getting dressed when she notices.

On her left hand are two red dots, the skin around them puffy and damp.

She pulls out her laptop and quickly searches the symptoms of a black widow spider bite. Nearly none of her symptoms match up.

What’s happening to her?

 

* * *

 

She spends the next few hours cycling through eating all the food in the house and pacing the house.

Being at war with yourself is never fun. Especially when you might be dying from a genetically enhanced spider bite, or mutating into a spider yourself.

She has no idea what to do.

If she tells someone, then they might discover the source of the venom is from Oscorp. If Mr. Osborn finds out that she was the one bitten, he might take it out on Harry, especially if the consequences are severe enough. Not to mention the charge of the medical bills for experimental treatments and studies on her illness will ruin her family financially.

Or, she doesn’t say anything, passes this whole thing as the flu, and prays she survives.

She currently curled over the toilet, puking out everything she’s eaten in the last two days, tears leaking from her eyes from the intense stomach and back pains.

Sometimes she really hates how loyal she can be, because she’s only known Harry for two months, but she doesn’t want to ruin his life because she was stupid enough to break into one of the labs at Oscorp.

She heaves again and sets her mind on option two.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STRAP YOURSELVES IN LADS, YOU KNOW WHAT THIS CHAPTER IS.
> 
> I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm really not :/
> 
>  
> 
> yes i am

Another thing that’s weird about high school: people miss you when you’re gone and get concerned when you don’t contact them.

Michelle gets back on Thursday, and it’s hard to walk on eggshells with people barraging you with questions about your health and if you need help catching up. She would appreciate it if she wasn’t having a crisis.

The day passes mostly fine. She gets through her classes despite the noise and the lights and the smells and sits in the library during lunch to collect herself. Liz offers to help her with any work she needs, but it isn’t necessary, because Peter somehow got into her locker and dropped off work from the classes they shared, with a little-handwritten note:

_“Hope you feel better. - Peter”_

She appreciates Liz’s more honorable approach but has a feeling that Peter shares her opinion on the complete farce that is EDUSA.

She, Ned, and Peter are heading to the library for decathlon when she starts to feel a tingle at the base of her spine. She can’t quite figure out what it is, but it’s getting stronger as they get closer the doors of the library.

Just before Ned can open the door, her hand flies to catch his wrist. The two boys are staring at her, but she isn’t paying attention; there’s something behind that door.

She can’t explain how she knows, but it’s just something she can feel.

She pushes past Ned and places both hands on the door. She takes a slow breath and gently pushes it open.

Nothing happens, but the feeling persists.

“Uh….Michelle?” Ned breaks the tense silence, and she quickly waves a hand to quiet him. She needs to figure out what’s inside the library because something is telling her it is not good.

She takes a slow step inside, and something jumps out in front of her and makes an explosive sound.

She barely thinks, just follows her instincts and delivers a roundhouse kick to the threat.

Flash goes flying across the room, landing next to a table, the air horn in his hand clattering to the ground. She hears the startled shouts of her classmates as they rush to help the boy. He sits up and presses a hand to his nose, blood leaking through his fingers.

What just happened?

Well, clearly she just kicked Flash across the room because she sensed a threat that in reality was just a prank on the freshmen, and she may have done a few years of dance and watched plenty of Avatar, but she has the athleticism of a beanbag chair, so seriously, what?

“What’s going on in here?”

She’s broken out of her daze by Mr.Harrington’s shout. He’s rushing into the library and glaring at his students.

“Michelle just kicked me in the face!” Flash yelled, his voice muffled by his hands on his face.

Peter and Ned start to make excuses for her, saying that Flash scared her and she just reacted and didn’t mean to hurt him, but Mr.Harrington cut them off with a hand. He points at Michelle and Flash.

“You two, office, now.”

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Mortia.”

Dad closes the door to the principal’s office and turns to face her, his calm demeanor replaced by frustration. They hold each other's gaze, and after a few moments, her dad sighs, closing his eyes, and stars to walk down the hall.

Michelle follows him, because what else is she supposed to do?

She gets in the car after her dad, and he sits in the driver’s seat for a minute, hands in his lap. He’s running his words through his head, thinking everything over before speaking.

“Don’t expect a smaller sentence because your birthday is on Saturday. You need to face consequences.”

“So what, am I under house arrest? We’re just canceling the dinner plans?” Michelle snaps, not in the mood to deal with a lecture.

“You’ve made your bed, Michelle, it’s time you lie in it. I will talk to your mother tonight, and we most likely will be canceling plans. We can celebrate next week or whenever your punishment is over.”

She slaps her hands on her knees with a huff, turning away from her dad to stare out the window.

 

* * *

 

When she enters her house, her mom is standing in the kitchen, one hand on her hip, the other holding Delilah. Her baby sister coos and waves, while her mom gestures to a plate of food on the counter.

“Eat. Then homework. Then bed. If you need technology for any reason, you are to ask us first.”

Michelle swipes her plate and stomps to her room, planning to channel her anger into her essay prompt for history.

It’s somehow even harder to focus in the comfort of her own room. She can hear Caleb talking to Dad about the new book his class has started reading, and Mom is trying to quiet Delilah’s babbling to get her to eat.

Like a normal family.

Her pen saps in her grip, staining her hand in the dark ink. She throws the now useless tool into her wastebasket and gets up to shower. She’s too stressed to be dealing with emotions right now.

 

* * *

 

It’s nearly two a.m and she’s long finished her homework, but she still up because she can hear the dog three blocks down trying to scratch his way through the fence, someone’s tire on the next street over just popped, and the couple next door is having a shouting match. She’s trying to distract herself by reading, but none of her books are interesting right now and her lamp is too bright.

She’s trying to smother herself with her pillow to get some quiet, and it works enough to block out the things happening outside of her house. Caleb is tossing and turning, Delilah is making little baby snores in her sleep, and her mom and dad are downstairs, talking. If she concentrates, she can make out their voices.

“....just don’t understand why! She’d rather rip someone apart through debate than ever lift a finger to them. I don’t even know where she learned how to hurt someone with that much force,” her dad rants, clearly frustrated.

“High school has been a tough transition. Do you think she’s lashing out?”

“Over that? Jackie, she’s better than that, we both know this. She would talk to us, wouldn’t she? And she kicked a boy in the face. And this wasn’t some flailing motion, it was precise. Where’d she even learn how to do that? I haven’t taught her anything besides disarming and escaping, and that was only because I was paranoid about the S.H.I.E.L.D. leak.”

“What did she say during the meeting? Has this boy been bullying her?”

“I don’t know, she won’t talk to me. You know she doesn’t tell me about these things. I....” he halts, his voice shaky once he speaks again. “If she is acting out, for attention or whatever, I just can’t help feeling like this is my fault. I promised her that I wouldn’t leave again, but with the things happening in Hell’s Kitchen and Sokovia fiasco, I’ve needed to be gone, just like I did before. I just... I need her to understand that.”

“....You don’t think she’s forgiven you.”

Her father is silent.

“Arthur, I know it’s hard, but you can’t deny that it might be the source of this. How many times have you been away for her and Caleb’s birthdays? And then this happens and we postpone plans? No wonder she’s shutting us out.”

“If this is the problem, then why isn’t Caleb doing the same?” Her dad’s voice rises in exasperation. “He’s come to us, asks me questions and I’ve been willing to give him answers. Michelle just avoids the subject altogether until she gets pissed about it again. He’s approached this issue with more maturity than she ever has, and he’s twelve! ”

“Caleb didn’t experience the same thing that Michelle did!” Her mom shoots back. “Caleb was too young when you first left to form a stronger attachment, and you know that. As soon as you were back, you spent as much time with his as you could so he could finally have a proper father figure! Michelle knew you for five years, you had to leave, and she grows up wondering if you’d ever come home. You came back and there’s still no guarantee you won’t have to leave again. She’s been struggling with that since. And Delilah, she’ll either live a better life or the same one Michelle did, and either of those might be something troubling her.”

“I’ve been trying to reach out to her, but she just...will not meet me halfway.”

“....And it might be a long time before she does. But for now, we just need to do what we can. One issue at a time.”

Oh, so she’s an issue now. That’s comforting.

She piles the blankets over her and hums every song that comes to her head, trying to block the rest of the world out again.

She finishes the last notes of Life on Mars when she finally falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, she is given strict instructions: Her phone is to be used for communication with family only, she needs to pick up her brother immediately after school like she does every Friday, and come straight home.

She spends the day completely distracted by her new abilities. She has to watch her every move to make sure she doesn’t stick to or break anything. Coupled with her sudden sensitivity to everything and a “sixth sense” that jumps at her at random, the eight hours she spends at school are absolute torture.

She sprints from the school at the last bell, desperately looking for somewhere away from all the things that are happening around her. She goes in the opposite direction of her house, actively avoiding populated areas in hopes for some goddamn peace.

She finds herself at a vacant construction site, which only unsettles her until she realizes that this is perfect. It’s away from people, especially ones that are bothering her right now, and private enough that no one will come to disturb her.

She goes to reach in her bag for her book when she sees how tall the building is.

An absolutely crazy idea crosses her mind.

She drops her bag in the dirt and walks up to the concrete wall, experimentally placing her hands on the cool stone. After a moment of contemplation, she brings a foot up and presses it against the base.

She pulls herself up off the ground, and she sticks to the wall by her hands and feet.

She slowly scales the wall and settles on the ledge, looking over the construction site. There are big and small structures littered throughout, and piles of sturdy materials lay dormant.

Her idea suddenly isn’t quite that crazy.

 

* * *

 

She finally nails the landing on a vault, and she lets out a whoop of joy and tumbles to the dirt, laughing giddily.

She’s just spent the last four hours experimenting with her new abilities and has found that she has a command over her entire body that she’s never had before. It’s taken all this time to even begin to grasp it, but the more she does, the more energy fills her. She’s climbed every possible surface, lifted, pushed, and pulled until there was nothing left, and has twisted and stretched her body positions she doubted to be possible.

Sweaty, dirty, and sore, she still beams to the sky, sitting up and dashing to her backpack. Expelling some of her seemingly boundless energy has left her loose and happy.

She’s so high on cloud nine that she doesn’t think to check her phone that she’s been purposefully ignoring since she stepped out of school.

 

* * *

 

Her brisk pace slows when she sees her Dad standing on the porch. She stops at the bottom of the steps, finding it hard to meet his eyes.

He takes in her dirty clothes and messy hair. His voice is low when he asks “Are you hurt anywhere.”

She shakes her head.

His face tightens and he points to the door. “Get inside. Now.”

She walks through the door, her Dad close behind her. They enter the living room where Caleb, Mom, and Delilah are. Her Mom’s worried look is quickly replaced by fury.

“Caleb, take Delilah with you to your room. We need to talk to your sister.”

Caleb picks up the baby from the couch and quietly leaves the room, her big eyes watching Michelle curiously.

The conversation hasn’t even begun, and Michelle is already exhausted. She opens her hands in front of her and sighs. “Go ahead.”

Her mom narrows her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I have homework, so I’d rather get this over with.”

Her dad lets out a surprised laugh. “Oh, you think this is a joke?”

“Do you see me laughing?” She challenges, a rage that’s been brewing in her for a long time starting to overflow.

Dad shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but it stops now. You can’t speak to your mother and I like that, you can’t go attacking other students, you can’t ignore our texts and calls, and you can’t just decide to not do the most important thing of your day to spite us.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your brother, Michelle!” her mom stands from the couch. “You’re supposed to pick him up from school! But you didn’t! Thank goodness his teacher was willing to wait with him for your Dad to pick him up! What would have happened if neither of us was available, or the teacher couldn’t stay? What if he had still waited for you, and something happened to him?”

“I didn’t mean to leave him! I forgot-”

“Forgot?” her Dad shakes his hand in the air. “Oh, you just forgot about your brother, or that you had a phone, or that you were grounded? Michelle, you can’t just leave and not tell us where you are-”

Michelle feels the thin lid on her emotions crack.

“But you can?”

Mom and Dad are stunned into silence. Michelle almost finds herself in the same state.

“How dare you…” Dad whispers, fury and hurt swimming in his eyes

And just like that, it bursts.

“No, no, how dare you! ” She jabs a finger into her dad’s chest. “You leave, and you don’t tell us where you’ve been, and then you come home and expect things to be just a-okay? What kind of backward logic are you living by? Did you honestly expect things to work out when you entered a family as a stranger because ‘the world needed you’ ?”

“I have a responsibility to do what I can to make the world a better place!”

“Oh, but it wasn’t your responsibility to love your family?”

Her mom gasps, covering her mouth with her hands, and her dad takes a step away like she just hit him.

Michelle can’t take this anymore. Can’t take any more excuses.

She runs out of the house and doesn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

She’s let her feet choose where to go, completely oblivious to her surroundings. She’s too focused on holding back her tears to really care where she is. She will not feel sorry for saying the things she said. Her Dad needs to realize that there are consequences for his actions too.

She’s in the back aisle of a corner store, pretending to debate on peach rings or Chex mix. For the first time this week, she isn’t hungry, but she knows she should be. Eating is a good distraction, and maybe if she chokes on her food she can trick herself into thinking her chest hurts because her snack went down the wrong pipe. She can feel herself shaking, her extremities are numb and tingling, but she refuses to let regret to replace her anger.

She’s ready to give up and find another store when a gruff voice at the front says “Don’t scream.”

She turns, the sudden anxiety she was feeling starting to make sense. She quietly peeks around the aisle and sees a man in a dark mask pointing a gun and the cashier

The poor man behind the counter is shaking, fumbling for the money and stuffing it in a shopping bag.

Michelle is frozen, her heart hammering in her ears. She knows she has the strength to take this guy down without a problem, but he’s also got a gun. What if her anxiety slows her down, and he shoots her?

But if she doesn’t do anything, the man will get away, and possibly hurt someone else.

The cashier finishes emptying the register and tosses the bag by the robber’s feet. The robber picks it up and dashes out the door.

The employee quickly reaches for the phone and dials 911, and Michelle walks on unsteady legs outside, watching the man run. She didn’t do anything. Why?

To protect herself.

Her body is screaming that she’s still in danger. But the robber is gone?

Shouts up ahead grabs her attention.

A man has gone after the thief and is quickly gaining on him. When the thief turns to shoot him, the other man grabs the gun and rips it from his hand. The thief tackles him to the ground and the gun clatters onto the sidewalk.

People nearby are running or filming the brawl, and she can’t help but walk closer. The man throws the thief off of him and stands, his face finally visible to her.

Her heart leaps into her throat.

“Dad?”

Her dad looks for the source of the voice and meets her eyes.

“Michelle! You ne-”

A gunshot rings through the air. People scream. The thief runs.

Dark red is forming a large stain on her dad’s chest.

He falls to the ground.

The gunshot is still ringing in her head, but it sounds muffled, like she’s hiding in a blanket fort. She can feel her throat ache as she screams and sobs, her lungs burning as she runs to her Dad, pushing through the crowd to get to him.

He’s on the ground, pale and shaking, but he opens his eyes as soon as she kneels next to him. A woman is trying to cut open his shirt, and a man in the small crowd is calling an ambulance.

None of that matters, because Dad is dying and she needs to keep him awake.

She presses her hands to his chest and starts talking as much as she can. She knows she’s not very coherent right now, just keeps repeating _“oh my god, Daddy, I’m so sorry, I love you, stay awake, please, no, please Daddy, I love you so much just stay alive please, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of it, please Daddy stay awake!”_

She can’t hear him over the crowd’s voices or her own, but he can see his lips moving and her eyes are locked with his. He's whispering reassurances, blood trailing down his chin, his grasp on her wrist weakening.

She hears the sirens, and people are grabbing her, and she’s helpless to do anything as they drag her away from her Daddy.

 

* * *

 

A paramedic is quietly wiping the blood from her hands, and occasionally adjusts the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Everything is dark, and so, so cold that she can’t really feel anything at all.

While she knows she’s in shock, it’s still hard to imagine that time is still flowing around her. She understands that the police are telling her mom and her brother, and that the paramedic is asking if she wants to go to her room, and that Delilah is screaming because she’s so, so smart, too smart for a toddler, and she must know that something is wrong, and wants Mommy or Daddy to make it better, but they can’t because Mom is still trying to process it and Dad is-

She throws up in the bag that the paramedic is holding out for her.

 

* * *

 

 

She doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting on the roof, the blanket still around her shoulders and the rest of her family still asleep on the couch. She doesn’t remember climbing out her window, or going up to her room, or even going into her house.

She only knows that the sun is beginning to rise, a soft purple pink rising up into the dark sky.

It’s Saturday.

Happy 15th birthday Michelle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how bout that, huh?
> 
> Y'all ready for this to finally become interesting? Because I am.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle plays the grieving girl, as she's expected.
> 
> Then she decides that enough tears have been shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy howdy! I'm so happy to be posting this chapter! I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Just a few warnings: Michelle is currently grieving, so her mindset for most of the chapter isn't the happiest, and there is a reference to suicide, but no attempt is made

Life goes on and has no problem leaving the Jones family behind.

She doesn’t remember the funeral. Just that she refused to stand and speak of her Dad, which some of the older people chastised her for. She knows she eventually snapped and screamed her lungs out at one of the elderly women attending, making her husband scold her for making a scene at her father’s funeral like she wasn’t a grieving daughter that was too emotionally strained to give a shit what anyone else thought was appropriate behavior.

Her mother took her away and told her to stop shouting, get some water, and maybe take a nap, but she didn’t punish her.

It’s been two weeks since then, and Mom’s personal leave days are up. Caleb and Michelle need to go back to school.

Nothing feels right.

Since the police escorted her home, it feels like they haven’t really left them alone. The first day after, Michelle is interviewed and evaluated and is under a constant flow of things she should really pay attention to but doesn’t have the energy to. They ask the same things over, and over, and over: Why were you in the store? Did you recognize the man? Did he threaten you? Why was your dad looking for you? Can you describe exactly what happened the night of November 14th, 2015?

She hates every second of it. Having to relive those few minutes, it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to her.

Part of her wonders if it’s penance.

She used to think of herself as a very strong and capable woman.

Now, she feels like one gust of wind could break her to pieces, but she refuses to let it show.

Lucky for her, everyone else seems to think the same thing.

As soon as she walks on campus, everyone gives her a wide berth like she has invisible bodyguards flanking her everywhere she goes. A hush falls over every room she enters, quickly followed by frantic whispering, her peers not even trying to hide the fact that she’s the talk of the school right now.

The day she gets back, an assembly is held to talk about gun violence, and Michelle isn’t sure if she wants to gouge the eyes out of every person who glances at her or projectile vomit onto the speaker.

She does neither because she hates the attention she’s getting. She wants to be invisible like she was before. She wants everything back to normal. She wants Caleb to fill the house with his constant chatter, her Mom to get some sleep, she wants Delilah to stop toddling around the house looking for someone that isn’t there.

Someone that won’t ever come back.

Every classroom she enters, the teacher pulls her aside and tells her the same thing: _you’ll have all the time you need to catch up on your work_ , and that if any students are bothering her about it, she can tell them and they’ll see what they can do about it.

But she can’t, because that would be drawing even more attention to herself.

Forget being invisible, Michelle wants to disappear.

 

* * *

 

Mr. Harrington is kind enough to excuse her from practice until she feels well enough to participate, but she quickly brushes the idea off. The therapist the police that have forced her to talk to a few times, as well as the school psychologist, have told her that returning to routine as best she can will help with the mourning process. She sits off to the side at practice, and the team tries their best to ignore the elephant in the room.

They do give her a bag of cookies along with a note they’ve all signed expressing their condolences.

She throws the cookies in the trash when she goes home, but folds the note and stuffs it at the bottom her drawer that holds her art supplies.

She never reads it.

 

* * *

 

She makes Caleb and Delilah dinner every night because Mom has to take longer shifts at the hospital to support them now. Caleb forces her to eat something too, and she hates it, hates that he can see that she’s struggling, but she has no right to feel this way, because it’s her fault that this happened, if she’d just listened, if she understood that the world didn’t revolve around her, then he wouldn’t have followed her, and she may have never walked out, and none of this would have happened.

 

* * *

 

It’s Christmas Eve and she’s sitting on the roof in her thin pajamas, shivering because spiders can't thermoregulate and that somehow how affects her, as the snow softly drifts over her neighborhood. It’s nearly silent, which is unsettling. The whole world seems to have gone quiet, and cold, and dark like it is right now.

At that moment, it hits her that this is real, that her dad isn’t coming back.

Not like last time.

She realizes there’s a difference between her dad being away, and her dad being _gone_.

She can feel her tears running hot down her frozen cheeks, her breath shuddering and forming misty ghosts into the chilly air, but she remains quiet in her sorrow. She is alone, well and truly alone. She is the only person alive who knows the truth about what really happened, what motivated her to lash out that night, and if she were to breathe a word of it to anyone….

It’s cold.

She stands and takes a few steps down the tiles.

And she slips.

Her sudden ability to stick to any surface means nothing in the face of grief-fuelled distraction. She goes ass over teakettle and slides over the ice, the cold crystals cutting open her delicate skin.

She grabs onto the windowsill of her skylight before she can fly off the roof. She strains to pull herself up despite her enhanced strength and curls up next to the glass, the pain ripping harsh sobs out of her throat. She fumbles for the latch and falls down onto her bed.

Someone closes the window for her.

She looks through her hair and sees Caleb kneeling on her bed next to her, a blank look on his face.

“You….you weren’t going too…..were you?” He croaks.

It takes her a moment to understand him, but as soon as she does, her gut clenches and she wraps her arms around her little brother, shushing his hitching breaths.

“No no no, Caleb. I’d never, I’d never do that. I just slipped, I swear. I was sitting on the roof because I needed air, and I slipped. I’m okay.”

“No you’re not,” he mumbles into her shoulder.

She gives a defeated sigh. Time for her to push aside her despair and resume the role as Big Sister. “No, I’m not.” She pulls away and makes him look her in the eyes. “No one is right now, Caleb. But…” she struggles to come up with something to get the awful thought out of his head. “But we….we’ll get there, as a family. I’m never leaving you guys. Just like Dad didn’t really leave,” her voices catch, and she clears her throat to continue. “He’s not really gone now either if you think about it. We think about him every day, and we always will. As long as we remember him, he’s here. Okay.”

The last time she and Caleb shared a bed was when they were ten and eight respectively, at their grandparent’s house in Staten Island on the last day of Hanukkah. It was the first time they really got to learn more about the culture that their Dad grew up with, so full of Poppie’s latkes that they fell asleep without a fuss.

It takes longer to fall asleep in the cold with empty bellies, but it’s easy to dream of that night once they fall asleep under Michelle’s fluffiest blanket.

 

* * *

 

She wakes up without any cuts or bruises, but the blood on her sheets is unmistakable. And her brother is smart, he saw her injuries last night and has known that something else has been bothering her even before Dad.

Caleb may have a bit of a reputation as a blather mouth, but the memories of last night plague her mind, and no way is she letting her brother think something like that ever again.

So, for better or worse, she shows him the two dots on her left hand and starts from the beginning,

 

* * *

 

In the new year, a woman knocks on their door.

She introduces herself as Maria Hill, an employee of Stark Industries and claims that she used to work with Dad. The slight tingle in her fingers lets Michelle know that this woman isn’t saying everything, but Mom seems to know her and welcomes her in without question.

Ms. Hill asks to speak with their mother privately, so the kids go upstairs into Michelle’s room. Caleb sits on her bed and hushes Delilah’s giggles, letting her sister concentrate on the conversation happening downstairs.

“....know that you’ve been asked this so many times before, but for Arthur’s sake, I need to ask you again; do you know who the killer was?”

Her mom gives a tired sigh. “No. No one at the scene got a clear view, and he was wearing a mask.”

“Do you think Arthur knew him.”

“....why? Do you think he was….”

“...It’s a low possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. It’s not far-fetched to think a H.Y.D.R.A. agent would try to take out one of our own, even if they were retired long before S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed. From what I’ve learned, I think I can safely say that the culprit was just another mugger, but with the lives we live, we can never be too sure.”

“Yes. I’ve come to see that.”

“.....I’m very sorry for your loss, Jacquelin. Arthur was a good man. It was an honor to work with at S.H.I.E.L.D. and Stark Industries. He was a valued and respected member of both organizations, and it pains me to see the family of such a wonderful man going through something like this.”

“Thank you, Maria. It means a lot that you stopped by, even if it was partly because of business….If you’d like, I can see if Michelle would be okay with answering some questions. She was….she was there when it happened.”

“Only if she’s okay with it. I’m okay with leaving what I have.”

Michelle blinks her eyes open and walks to the bed, picking up her book.

“What’s going on?” Caleb asks conspiratorially.

“Ms. Hill used to work with Dad and wants to know more about that night. She wants to talk to me.” She can hear footsteps climbing up the stairs.

Caleb is about to ask another question, but Mom calls through the door before opening it.

With Michelle’s consent, Maria pulls up her desk chair and sits across from her, Mom taking her brother and sister down the stairs.

“I know what you want to talk to me about.”

Maria blinks. “I guess it’s obvious.”

“I don’t know anything about the man. All I know is that he robbed the store and my Dad went after him, and he got shot.” Because of me.

Maria nods.

“Michelle,” she starts. “I worked on and off with your father for twelve years. He was a good man. It doesn’t surprise me that he died defending the lives of innocent people.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t pretend to know what he would tell you, but I do know that the last thing he would want you to be doing is….anything that could get you into trouble. He dedicated his life to keeping people safe, including you and your family. And I know you’re grieving, but please….don’t be reckless.”

Michelle remains silent, the only words that mattered from Maria’s speech being _dedicated his life to keeping people safe._

She knew that all too well.

Michelle stands, prompting Maria to follow her. Michelle offers her hand.

“I won’t Ms. Hill,” she lies through her teeth.

 

* * *

 

That night, she talks things over with Caleb.

And like the wonderful brother her is, he gives her his honest opinion.

“Michelle, you’re insane!”

“Well, what else do I do? Just sit at home and do nothing? Pretend none of this ever happened?”

Caleb doesn’t have an answer for her, just flails his arms around and lays down on the floor. After a few long seconds of groaning, he lifts his face from the carpet and says “You’ll need a disguise.”

“Yeah. but what?” She starts to dig through her drawers for something practical.

“And a name.”

“Ye-what? No, Caleb. I don’t need a name, I’m not going to do this to boost myself up!”

“Well yeah, that’s why it’s a disguise,” Caleb replies, tilting his head. “But think about it; the Avengers give people hope right, and they have cool names that carry the weight of their heroism. Iron Man, Captain America, they’re bigger than the person behind the mask. People like their alter egos more than them. Drawing attention to the hero but not the person behind the mask might actually benefit your privacy!”

Michelle stares at him, before huffing “I hate it when you manage to make sense,” and sets a dark red hoodie on her bed.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Harry.”

The lunch table stares at her.

“H-hi! Michelle!” Harry says, a bit too brightly. “Hey, what’s going on? What can I do for you?”

“I need your chemistry notebook.”

“What for?”

 _I’m trying to replicate that biodegradable cable we saw at Oscorp using your superior knowledge in this field._ “I’m super behind, and I’m too lazy to try and learn everything by myself.”

 

* * *

 

“And then you just apply the pressure there, and…” Ned pushes down on the lever, and the silly string flies out of the nozzle.

“Alright. That makes sense. Thanks for teaching me about this.”

“No problem, I never knew you were interested in robotics and engineering.

 _Find an excuse._ “Yeah, well...my Dad worked for Stark Industries. He was an engineer”

“Oh….cool.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Peter? Can you check over my physics homework?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, I can….wait, what assignment is this? I don’t remember going over velocity in pendulum motions?”

“Oh, it’s an alternate assignment I got so I can’t copy.”

“Okay, that uh, that makes sense…..oh wait right here, the mass is inaccurate….”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Caleb! Oh my god, guess what I just did!”

_“Finally become cool?”_

“Haha, no, the web shooters! They work!”

_“Really! You aren’t calling me from the afterlife?”_

“No! I finally know how to use them without breaking any bones!”

_“How many bruises do you have?”_

“....Eight. That I can see right now."

_“I’ll run a bath for you.”_

 

* * *

 

“Caleb. This looks stupid.”

“Not as stupid as those goggles. They’re ruining the whole ensemble!”

“I’d like to be able to do this without having some kind of seizure, so sorry for being concerned about my own safety, Tim Gunn.”

“Well then,” Caleb lifts his chin and snaps his fingers. “Make it work!”

“Fine, just….you wanted a name?”

“Yeah, here’s what I got: Spider-Girl, Spider-Woman, Scarlet Spider, Araña-”

“Childish, boring, mouthful and I’m not using words from a language I can barely speak.”

“Fine, fine...Oh-oh-oh! What the name of the thingies! The stuff the webs come out of?”

“The web-shooters?”

“No no, the ones on an actual spider! It starts with an ‘s’, uh….spi- spiral? No."

The word enters Michelle’s mind, and she gasps. “Caleb, I love you and you’re weird brain so much.”

 

* * *

 

She flies through the air, taking a sharp turn and using the momentum to gain on the speeding truck.

_Okay Michelle, the moment of truth here. Don’t screw this up!_

She ignores the screams of the people down below, both from trying to get out of the truck’s way and the red and white blur landing in front of the bus, directly in the truck’s path.

_I can do this, I can do this, I can do this!_

The truck slams into her, and she lifts it in the air, her back slamming against the bus and leaving a huge dent. She drops the car and climbs on the hood.

“Is everyone alright? You guys good?”

Seeing that no one is seriously harmed, she stands and aim a web at a building.

“Wait!”

She looks down at the man who just climbed out of the car.

“Who are you?”

Michelle is glad that her smile is hidden under the white mask.

“Spinnerette.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things:
> 
> 1\. Arthur Jones was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and very gifted engineer. He went undercover to Stark Industries while the hunt for the Hulk was intitially taking place. Then Tony was kidnapped, and S.H.I.E.L.D. began looking more into everything surrounding that. Tony had no idea he was an agent until Maria told him about Arthur's death, since he was a Stark Industries employee. Both Maria and Tony attended the funeral but kept it quiet, and witnessed Michelle's outburst.
> 
> 2\. Jacquelin Jones is a nurse.
> 
> 3\. Arthur was raised Jewish, while Jacquelin was raised Christian. Neither have very strong faith, so there were never arguements over traditions.
> 
> 4\. Caleb knows because Michelle trusts him and they are both using Spinnerette as a coping mechanism.
> 
> 5\. While Michelle is very smart, she didn't share the same passions that Peter or Ned did to be able to make her webshooters and fluid comepletely by herself, so instead she learned by asking questions and teaching herself more about them.
> 
> EDIT 9/18
> 
> 6\. For those who don't know, all hero names listed are actual characters! I decided to use Spinnerette because it is the alias of Mary Jane from Earth-18119, and the costumes are mixes of the constumes from homecoming using the color scheme of Spinnerette (Red and White instead of Red and Blue)
> 
> Next chapter, we dive into Civil War! Ciao for now!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected vistor offers Michelle a once in a lifetime opprotunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you guys excited! Because I am! We're finally getting t the good stuff! I hope Tony doesn't seem out of character. I tried to take in account how different Peter and MJ's situations and characters are :/
> 
> Enjoy!

“Alright Michelle, last chance. Are you sure?”

She looked away from herself in the mirror and met her mom’s eyes.

“Yes.”

Her mom smiled. “Okay. Here we go.”

Mom went to stand behind her, carefully gathering her long curly hair.

Michelle closes her eyes.

The first snip of the scissors rings in her ears.

It only takes a few minutes. Her hair only reached past her shoulders, and luckily her mom was satisfied with the excuse of “trying something new.”

“Okay, pumpkin, open your eyes.”

She blinks them open and stares at her reflection.

She….doesn’t look too different.

She carefully reaches up to the new ends of her hair, fingers brushing her jaw. Without the added weight, her wild curls begin to poof up, forming an odd looking halo around her head.

She grin lights up her face.

“I love it.”

 

* * *

 

“Caleb! You ready to go!”

“Yeah, just let me go to the bathroom!”

Michelle rolls her eyes and goes to pour her tea in a travel mug. She’s been going out as her vigilante persona for about two months now, and it’s a blessing that her mom doesn’t suspect anything. Having Caleb vouch for her is helpful too.

She goes to wait by the front door when she starts to pay attention to the T.V

“-building in Vienna during a special conference. One hundred and seventeen countries came together to ratify the Sokovia Accords, which would create a framework for the registration and deployment of enhanced individuals.”

Mom is sitting on the couch, worrying her lip as she folds laundry, Delilah sitting on her playmat in front of the T.V. Michelle goes to kneel by her sister and play while she waits for her brother.

“A terrorist attack on the U.N?”

“Yes. They were going to make laws that would keep people like the Avengers from destroying the places they go to protect.”

“‘Registration and deployment of enhanced individuals.’ They’d be keeping track of them?” A knot of worry twists in her stomach.

“Well, with people like that running around, we don’t always know their motives. Having the official record of them, they’re hoping to prevent any other disasters happening.”

_What would happen if they were to track me down? I know that I’ve been recorded before. What if someone followed me back to my house? Would I be arrested?_

Caleb dashed down the stairs and gave Mom a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye, Mama! You gonna be home tonight?”

“Yes, I traded shifts with Sharon, so I’ll make spaghetti tonight.”

Michelle shakes her troubled thoughts out of her head and stands, following Caleb out the door. “Okay! Bye, Mom!”

She’ll dig deeper into the Sokovia Accords after finals.

 

* * *

 

The day passes as usual for the end of the year. Homework consists of projects and studying for finals. Thanks to her increased strength, she has no trouble carrying her backpack full of textbooks and notebooks, but she ignores Caleb's whines about middle school being to much work and asking her to carry his.

They get to the driveway and see an expensive looking car parked in the street in front of the house. A large man is standing next to the car, and before they can ask him why he’s there, he just points to their front door.

Giving one last look, the kids turn and walk up the steps to their porch.

“You buzzing?” Caleb whispers shifting on his feet.

Michelle searches deep inside herself, trying to see if her spider sense has been triggered in any way.

“Nothing.”

Michelle unlocks the door and walks inside, Caleb following her closely. Michelle can hear her Mom talking to a man in the living room, and she knows she recognizes the other voice, but she can’t seem to place where.

“....for not coming sooner. I only heard about it a few weeks ago, and my schedule was so full of urgent matters that I couldn’t come. Then, I get this great news, and I think ‘Well why not kill to birds with one stone?’”

“Mom! We’re home!” Caleb announces, stepping into the living room.

“Oh good! How was school?”

“Alright,” Michelle answers, pulling her headphones out of her ears. She enters the living room. “There’s this car outside, do you…”

Tony Stark is sitting on her couch.

_Tony Stark is sitting on her couch._

She and Caleb are in similar states of shock, Caleb’s mouth hanging in awe, and Michelle frozen in dread.

He knows.

“Ah, Miss Jones, the younger. We were just talking about you,” Stark says casually, taking a sip of his tea. His gaze shifts to her brother. “And Mr. Jones, a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“H-hi,” Caleb mumbles, weakly raising a hand.

_Play it cool Michelle. Don’t make a scene._

She clears her throat. “Hello,” she walks to the couch and extends her hand.” “I’m Michelle.”

“Tony,” he responds easily, taking her hand in an equally firm grip.

Her gut twists in discomfort, but her spider sense remains dormant.

“Right. How can I….” She swallows down the lump in her throat. “How can I help you?”

“Well, I’m here for a few reasons. Firstly, to express my condolences for Arthur Jones’ passing. I’m sure that it’s been a very difficult time for you and your family.”

Michelle isn’t sure if his sincerity is an act or not. Spider sense or no, he can’t just be here for charity.

“And, more importantly, I have some wonderful news.” He places his mug down on the coffee table, placing his hands in his lap. “So, Michelle, how much have you thought about your future?

Blindsided by the curveball he’s thrown her way, she can’t form a proper response soon enough, which he takes in stride. “Well, I’ve taken the liberty of analyzing your school record, and it looks like you are a perfect applicant for the September Foundation.”

Her mom smiles brightly at her. “Do you know what that means, honey?”

“...Financial aid?”

Stark snaps and points his finger at her. “Bingo.” He stands, clapping his hands together. “Well, I just spent the time talking to your mother all about this, so how ‘bout I bring you up to speed, hash everything out with you in private. Is that cool?”

His eyes tell her that it’s not really a question.

“...Yeah, my room is upstairs.”

He gestures for her to lead the way, and she gives Caleb a quick glance. He’s gotten over his shock and his staring at her worriedly. She gives a small nod of comfort.

_I’ll handle this._

As Stark follows her to her room, she turns all of her attention behind her, listening for any hint of him reaching for something, or anything besides just walking with her. His pace is steady, heart rate relaxed, and breath slow.

While she doesn’t sense danger, she still doesn’t feel comfortable. Could this really be just an offer for a scholarship?

Her previous suspicions are confirmed when he shuts her door behind him, his sharp eyes looking her up and down like he’s analyzing her like she’s a piece of code.

She heightens her walls, ready for attack.

“I’ll have to get the name of that tea, very delicious,” Stark says, inspecting her room. He stops by her bookshelf, finger lightly brushing the spines of the books. “Orwell, King, Shelly, a fan of the classics I see.” His eyes land on the sketchbook on her desk, taking in the details of the penciled spider dangling from a web.

Michelle curses herself for being so cliche. If he wasn’t sure before, there wasn’t any doubt now.

“This is nice. You sketch often?” He asks. It seems like he can feel her tension.

She’s not sure why, but he’s stalling.

She raises her defenses.

“Okay, cut the bullshit. Why are you here?”

He looks up, taken aback by her crass, but quickly sobers himself, straightening up and facing her fully.

“Straight to business then. I admire that. Quick question,” he pulls his high tech phone out of his pocket and flicks his wrist. A holographic video plays a recording of her stopping the truck a few months earlier. “That’s you, right.”

Her silence is enough of an answer. He smirks. “Thought so,” he replays the video, and points at the smaller version of her. “Look at you go! Three thousand pounds at forty miles an hour, that’s not easy,” he ends the video. “You’ve got ‘mad skills.’”

Michelle huffs, hiding her apprehension with annoyance. “So, you here to arrest me?”

Stark’s playfulness dampens, his voice surprisingly gentle. “I’m here to recruit you.” He sits down on her desk chair, leaning back. “So, you got a name? ‘Spiderling’? ‘Spider-Girl’? ‘Spider-Kid’?”

She rolls her eyes. “‘Spinnerette.’”

“Yeah okay, but not in that leotard. You’re gonna need an upgrade, and as amazing as I am with building things, I’ll need an expert’s help.” He flicks his wrist again, and a small text box hovers in the air. “How’d this happen? What new abilities do you have? Oh, and I’d like to inspect your PJs if you don’t mind. Think of this as a job interview.” He flashes a quick smile.

She digs through her closet and pulls out her suit, handing it to him before sitting down on her bed. “I got bit by a freaky looking spider, and I woke up the next day like this. I have the strength, speed, and agility proportionate of a spider, better durability, perfect balance, and enhanced senses.” As she lists her abilities, the text box fills with the information, and Stark inspects her suit, messing with her goggles. “I also stick to things, consciously or not, so I have to be careful...are you even listening to me?”

Stark looks up from the suit, pulled out of his head. “Hm? Oh, yeah, just making adjustments.” She shakes her head, picking at the threads of her blanket. He lifts up the web shooters. “You know, these aren’t half bad considering they're made from scrap metal.” he carefully ejects the web cartridge. “And the tensile strength in this stuff is off the charts. Who manufactured it?”

He flicks the cartridge in her direction, and she catches it without thought. She looks back up at him and the smirk is back. So he has been paying attention.

“I did. It’s not my strong suit, but I’m a fast learner.”

He nods, carefully inspecting the inner workings of the shooters. “So, anyone else know?”

“My brother,” she answers after a beat of hesitation and then continues firmly. “Only my brother, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Understandable.” He puts the shooters down and levels her with a heavy gaze. “Why are you doing this?”

At her questioning look, he continues. “I wanna know, what made you want to swing around the city in a glorified tracksuit? In the few minutes I’ve known you, I can tell it’s not for attention.”

Michelle sighs, picking her words carefully. “Well….I’m me…. And I’ve had these powers for about six months. I’m sure I’d be a great addition to the cheerleading squad, or the softball team, or whatever, but….that’s not ‘me.’ But, it would also be a waste to just do nothing with what I’ve been given, or to use it for my own personal gain.”

She meets Stark’s eyes again, and he nods for her to continue.

“Look, what you do, going out and stopping the big disasters, that’s great, but I think you guys forget about how those things can affect the little guys like us. It’s hard for a voice to be heard when you're in a crowd and the people ‘above’ you have megaphones. It makes it seem like….you guys don’t really care about us.” She takes a deep breath and tentatively looks at Stark.

Instead of insulted, he looks resigned, like she’s just confirmed something he was dreading.

She doesn't feel sorry about it.

“Look, the way that life works, it’s affected by our actions. We are to ones who dictate our futures. So, if you can stop something bad from happening, and you don’t….” her throat is suddenly too tight. She shakes her head, willing her eyes to dry. “When you have the power to do good, it’s your responsibility to do so.”

She can’t meet Stark’s eyes, to busy forcing her body to relax, but she can tell that her words have affected him. When he breaks the silence, his voice soft with compassion.

“So, you wanna be there for the people like you. The ones who get lost in the noise, make things better for them.”

_People like you._

He’s right.

She wants to ensure that there will be no more Michelles. Or Calebs, or Delilahs, or Moms.

The ones who get lost in the noise.

“Yeah,” she responds with a small smile.

Stark stands and walks up to her bed. “You mind moving the leg? I’m gonna sit here.”

She does as she’s asked, and settles next to her, giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“You got a passport, kid?”

“No.”

“Ever been to Germany?”

“No…?”

“Oh, well you’ll love it. It’s lovely this time of year.”

Michele prepares to protest when an idea pops into her head.

“If I go I have some conditions.”

Stark seems a bit taken aback by her lack of a fight, but nods and says “Name your price.”

She straightens, leveling him with a confident gaze. “Financial aid for me and my siblings higher education. No exceptions.”

Stark stands up with a smile and offers his hand for her.

“Sounds good, Spinnerette.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelle doesn't have a hero worship of Tony like Peter does, so he needed to approach her in a different way. He needed to actually convince her and meet her halfway, whereas with Peter he just bat his eyelashes and promised some fun along with the money.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle dives headfirst into the life of an Avenger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! Sorry for the wait! School has been crazy, but I'm on break now! Hope you guys enjoy!

Michelle went to work on packing an overnight bag while Stark was downstairs lying to her mom. Caleb in the meantime had come upstairs and bombarded her with questions.

“So he knows.”

“Yep.”

“Are you gonna be arrested?”

“No, he wants to take me on a field trip. To Germany.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it secret Avengers business? Are you gonna be an Avenger?”

“I don’t  _know_ Caleb!” Michelle shouted, slamming her bag onto her bed. “I don’t know why he wants to take me, because he hasn’t  _explained_ anything! He won’t tell me anything because he probably has ulterior motives that he doesn’t want me to know about! And there’s nothing I can do because he has important information about me, and he can control me with it!”

Michelle took a few deep breaths and observed her brother. He was staring at the floor, shuffling on his feet.

Michelle sighed and took his hands.

“Look, I don’t know why he needs me, but he made it clear that it’s important, and it probably has to do with all the crap we’ve seen going on with Captain America. I need to just....do what he wants me to, for now, to keep you guys safe.” She lifted her brother’s chin. “I know it’s scary, but c’mon Caleb. You know me. It’s a shitty situation, but I’m trying to make the most of it. I might actually be able to work out some real financial aid with him.”

“Really?” Caleb asked skeptically.

“Yeah, I already have him paying my college tuition. He didn’t even hesitate.”

Caleb nodded solemnly. “It must be pretty big if he’s willing to do so much just to take you there.” He met her eyes. “Promise you’ll be careful.”

“Always.” She wrapped her brother in a tight hug.

Mom calls from downstairs, so Michelle grabbed her backpack and duffel bag and walks down the stairs, Caleb close behind her.

Stark was waiting by the door, so Michelle gave her Mom a warm hug and let Delilah kiss her goodbye three times, and promised she’d have fun at the “retreat”.

They walked down the driveway to the fancy car, and the big guy was still there.

“Well, I’ve gotta double time it to Berlin, I’ve got some pressing matters to take care of. You, on the other hand, you’ll have to take a long way, which still isn’t too long, because I’m the one providing the transportation.” Stark led her to the car and stopped in front of the guy. “This is your chauffeur for the day, Happy Hogan. Hap, this is Michelle Jones, she’s Queens’ resident wall-crawler.”

Happy extended a hand to her and gave her a tight smile, which Michelle had no problem returning.

“Well, you two kiddos get along now. Happy, you have the itinerary, I’ll call you when it’s go time. Bye!” Stark tapped his watch a few times and an Iron Man suit flew in from seemingly nowhere. He stepped in and promptly took off, leaving Michelle and Happy to watch him become smaller and smaller.

“Well that was dramatic,” Michelle quipped, shouldering her bag and opening the backseat. Happy grumbled something she couldn’t understand even with her enhanced hearing and slid into the driver’s seat.

 

* * *

 

Michelle closed her chemistry textbook with a sigh, leaning her head back against her seat. That’s only one subject out of her eight classes that she’s finished. If she has to look at molar mass equations anymore today, she’s going to explode.

Deciding to take a mental break, she puts her book aside and stretches in the back seat, rolling her neck and inspecting the luxurious interior. She wouldn’t be surprised if this specially designed car cost more than her house, which she assumed could sum up Stark’s financial privileges.

She watched the scenery fly by, the Unisphere standing grandly in the middle of Corona Park. The view wasn’t spectacular, considering she's lived in Queens her whole life, but the fact that she’s been recruited seems surreal. She doesn’t know if she’ll be convinced this really happened if she doesn’t have evidence of it.

Plus, Caleb will probably ruin her suit when she gets back if she doesn’t at least take pictures.

She pulls out her phone and is deciding on a filter when her driver finally decides to speak up.

“Hey, no no, this is confidential stuff. We can’t have record of you doing this.”

Michelle quirks her eyebrow. “My family knows that I’m going to a ‘retreat’ in Germany. Why would I not be taking pictures? Or making little videos for fun? You really expect people to believe that in this day in age I wouldn't do something like that?” She continues when he doesn’t respond. “Trust me, man, if we don’t want to raise suspicion, I need to have an alibi.”

“Yeah well, lucky you Ms. Millennial” Happy grumbles. “Tony said that if we have the time you can do some sightseeing. And we’re making good time. Use discretion. We don’t need the world thinking that something fishy is going on.”

“I’m not going to take it to...wherever we’re going when it’s time.” She swipes through her phone to clear notifications. “I’m not an idiot. I would’ve thought Stark made that clear.”

She feels more than she sees Happy’s eye roll, and he presses a button to raise the divider.

Now as alone as she can get, she snaps a few pictures of the scenery and her position in the back of the car and messages Caleb.

_“Off to defeat the Huns”_

 

* * *

 

Michelle knows that she can be stubborn, but she tries her best to show humility and compassion when she thinks people deserve it, in her own _“hey, you don’t suck as much as everyone else”_ kind of way.

She also knows she can be petty.

And she admits to herself that trying to seem unimpressed by the Stark Jet is only achieved through the power of her spite.

Happy is polite enough to offer help with her bags, but she stops him with little effort and lugs her bag over her shoulder with ease because she can and definitely has nothing to prove to this jackass. They get on the jet and they make it a point to sit as far away from each other as possible. Michelle records her first plane take off and settles down in her chair. She pulls out her sketchbook and pencil and starts a rough skeleton.

Happy is just about to doze off when he hears an odd noise from the end of the aisle. He peeks out to see that the source of it was the snarky teen, who is lightly rubbing her wrist and chortling at something in her lap. She catches him looking her way and her smirk grows into a cheeky grin. She lifts up the book and turns it around to reveal a scarily accurate portrait of himself. The paper is warped from the multiple markings made on it, and some of his features have been exaggerated to make him overly grumpy and….sad?

She sets it back down and messes with her headphones, and Happy blinks his shock away. “What is that?”

She smiles at him again. “I like to sketch people in crisis.”

And he thought Tony could be a handful sometimes.

 

* * *

 

Michelle isn't quite sure what to think now.

She could only do so much research without internet access and was forced to read magazines and newspapers lying around the jet. She kicked herself again for going into this blindly, but she can't focus on that right now.

From what little she's gathered, she knows that this whole thing seems to boil down to the Sokovia Accords. Captain and his team aren't supporting them, partly because they are trying to protect some brainwashed H.Y.D.R.A. agent and partly because they find the laws oppressive, while Stark and his merry band of misfits are supporting because they agree with the terms to an extent and are willing to work and change an obviously flawed document.

Politics can be messy, especially when they become personal. She can't just back out on her deal with Stark, but could she really be putting herself or her family in danger? Will she have to sign and stop her work?

She snaps the newspaper closed and tosses it to the seat in front of her. She grabs her book and opens it, attempting to distract herself from the bout of anxiety growing in her stomach.

“You good?” Happy asks from his seat.

After a few moments, Michelle lowers her book and keeps her eyes on her lap. “Will I have to sign the Accords?”

Happy doesn't respond, so she continues. “If that's what this is about, and Stark knows who I am, will I be arrested if I don't? Do they have amendments for minors?”

Happy remains in contemplative silence, and talks slowly through his response, choosing his words carefully. “The Accords need work, but they are necessary. Stark won't drag you into any of that until it's safe for you. Your identity is safe, and so will you be.”

Michelle sighs and wills her stomach to stop rolling. She'll have to be satisfied with that for now.

 

* * *

 

Much to Michelle’s satisfaction, Stark gives the all clear on sightseeing, so Happy supervises as she wanders around Berlin. She takes cheesy tourist photos, samples some of the cuisine (she'll never be able to eat pretzels from street vendors outside Germany ever again), and generally has a blast. Besides the naked woman who was walking through the streets as she was recording (something that few too many people seemed to question), she considers her first time out of the U.S a success.

Then all too soon, Happy is herding her into a hotel room and telling her to suit up.

He sets a silver case onto the coffee table and gestures to it like she's been stalling. She huffs at him and quickly swipes the case, flicking the locking mechanism and opening it.

Her snark dissipates into awe.

It's  _beautiful._  A perfect mixture of blacks, whites, and reds that simply looking at fill her with a newfound confidence and power. She's immensely proud of what she and Caleb were able to make with hand-me-downs and scrap metal, but actually experiencing the dare she say  _genius_ that Stark put into making a suit for someone he knew virtually nothing about, and was self-aware enough to make it user-friendly (she can see the calibrations being adjusted from skin contact,  _holy fuck_ ) has her brain scrambling.

"Okay, quit drooling and put it on. You've got work to do and we're on a time limit."

Her head snaps up to see Happy walk out of the room, already calling Stark for more instructions. She takes the suit into the bathroom and changes, experimenting with the airlock (She's not sure how to feel about how it hugs her body. She's lucky it was built with armor that lets her wear her underwear without causing lines because for some reason she _and_  Stark seem to find that important) and examines the web-shooters, mentally running the changes through her head and making adjustments. Once satisfied, she pins her hair against her head, grabs her mask, and puts on her game face.

She walks out of the bathroom sans mask and meets Happy in the main room. He looks her up and down, nods, and types something into his phone. "We gotta get moving, you can figure out all the little quirks Tony put in for you on the way there." He takes a few steps forward, but stops and turns to her with an accusatory finger. "And if you mess up the car, you'll be benched on principle."

She raises her hands in defense and takes the long hooded coat from him. They leave the hotel as inconspicuous as possible and get back into the car.

 

* * *

 

Now, at the eleventh hour, she can feel her anxiety rising. She wishes she still had her phone, or her book, or  _anything_ besides the knowledge that she's about to enter some serious shit with no plan. Like, enhanced beings and political issues that she knows she's not informed enough about this stuff to really make a stand so  _why is she here-_

A buzz on her wrist halts her racing thoughts, and she looks down to see a dim flash on her gauntlet informing her that her pulse is unnaturally elevated. Michelle rubs her wrist and closes her eyes, trying to breathe deeply. She fumbles with the mask and quickly pulls it over her head. She is greeted with darkness at first, but the lenses light up and she's met with an interface that quickly clears away for her to actually see.

The dull headache that has been lingering behind her eyes eases, and she blinks and realizes that she can _see._  Not to the point of hyper-fixation that she will sometimes find herself in on a daily basis, or the blurred and darkened view she would get from her old goggles, but clean and calm....  _perfect._

She busies herself with learning what she can about the suit in the short time she has and is in the middle of a demonstration of the comms when the door opens to reveal an Iron Man suit leaning against the car. She steps out and Stark lowers the helmet, leveling her with a steadying look.

"How you like it kid? You think you got it? Cause I can't really give you more tutorials at this point, so you're gonna have to grin and bear it for me."

"Like a glove," she replies shortly, straightening her posture. "So, what's the plan?"

"Okay, I'm gonna imagine you're smiling under the mask because you're being a bit of a Debbie Downer." He places a hand on her shoulder and leans in a little closer, making eye contact with her the best he can. "Okay, this might piss you off, but I'm only gonna call you in if I need you, and if that happens, I just want you to web 'em up. Rogers has a red white and blue bullseye on him, so start there and then just go for anyone who tries to stop you. Keep your distance and don't engage with anyone directly, they'll just try to talk you down, and they've lost that privilege. We're trying to fix this as non-violently as possible." He gives her a light pat and starts to walk away. "Wait for my signal. We'll go for something light-hearted, you'll know it when you hear it." And with that, the helmet forms and he flies off. Happy's car rumbles away behind her, and she's left alone on the runway.

 

* * *

 

She’s found a hanger to hide out in and has just finished practicing with her improved webs when she hears the sound of repulsors. She jumps down from the rafters to see Captain Fucking America staring down a few Avengers and the Prince of Wakanda. Her enhanced hearing can just make out the sound of frustrated and intense voices, but she doesn’t dare step out until necessary. As much as she hates to admit it, she doesn’t quite think she’s ready.

“Alright, I’ve run out of patience. _Twinkle Toes!”_

_Of fucking course._

Too late to back out now.

Michelle leaps into the air and fires a web as she flies over the Captain, nabbing the shield and perfectly sticking her landing.

With an air of confidence that has only ever filled her under her mask, she can’t help but grin at the faces of her audience.

“Hey everyone.”

Stark breaks the stunned silence. “Nice job, kid.”

She nods in his direction and keeps her eyes on Rogers. “Thank you, Stark. I can honestly say, I really appreciate the new duds.”

He laughs, probably satisfied that he’s finally gotten her to smile. “My pleasure, we’ll talk about it later.”

Michelle hasn’t missed the way Rogers is eyeing her in the same calculating manner that Stark had in her room. Even with her face obscured, it’s hard not to feel exposed. She gives a polite nod and a lazy salute to hide her discomfort. “Captain, I'm Spinnerette, it's a pleasure.”

The Captain smirks and directs his attention to Stark. “You’ve been busy.”

“And you’ve been a complete idiot,” he snaps back.

With Stark handling the threat that is currently in front of them, Michelle scans the surrounding area. She can’t see anyone else, but she doubts Captain America is going solo on this. She tries to expand her hearing and can just make out a light tapping of feet on metal. It must be distant if it’s that quiet, but she can’t place its direction. It’s almost like it’s coming from right under her….

A burst of movement happens just as her spider-sense goes off, and she moves just enough that the kick hits her in the chin instead of the throat. She’s knocked back onto the hood and the shield is ripped from her grasp. By the time pushes herself back up, the battle is in full swing.

“Stark, what should I do?”

_“What we discussed, keep your distance and web ‘em up. Help Rhodey with the two in the terminal.”_

“Copy that.” She fires a web and slings to the huge glass windows. Colonel Rhodes is being held up by the Captain, so she lands on the thick glass and crawls along, following her targets. She can see two men racing through the terminal, one of whom she recognizes as the Falcon. Her enhanced hearing picks up their labored breaths.

“What the hell is _that_?”

“Everyone’s got a  _gimmick_ now”

Bold words from the guy in a bird costume.

To prove her point, Michelle smashes through the glass and kicks the Falcon onto the ground with just enough time to stop the flying fist of the other man. A loud clang rings in the air and she feels an inhuman force send vibrations up her arm. She looks from the dude's bewildered face to see his gleaming silver hand she just stopped cold.

“You have a _metal arm?_ Dude, that is  _badass!_ ” She can’t help but say with glee.

Her marveling is interrupted when Falcon picks her up and starts to grapple with her in mid-air, and now metal is  _not_  badass, it’s seriously a huge problem, especially giant metal wings. She breaks free and latches onto the metal support beams, evading Falcon’s shots and trying to web her equally agile enemy.

Heat down her spine alerts her of a projectile from behind, and she snatches it from the air as it flies by her. She turns and sees a mop of brown hair move behind a pillar and swings the sign back.

“Hey man, heads up!”

As the sign smashes the pillar, she’s once again being lifted into the air. She flips over the Falcon and fires at his wings. The fluid hits his pack and he goes crashing down. He tries to run, but she quickly webs his hands to a railing, sticking to a nearby pillar.

Since she’ll probably never get a chance like this ever again and concludes that she has nothing to lose, she makes an attempt to sate her curiosity.

“So, your wings are carbon fiber, right?”

“Is this stuff coming out of you?” Dodging the question. Rude.

Two can play at that game.

“That really is some cutting-edge technology, I know a couple of nerds back home that would kill to be here right now, so if you wouldn’t mind-”

“I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a fight before,” he interrupts, voice tight. “But there usually isn’t this much talking.”

“Sure there is,” she counters. “Maybe I’ve just been in more fights than you,” which is absolutely not true, but if there’s one thing she’s started to learn from Harry, it’s that words can be a powerful weapon. She jumps down just as Fullmetal Alchemist tries to free the Falcon, so she ends up kicking them both off the ledge and onto the floor below. Falcon is still tangled in the webs, and she quickly fires another web at Elric’s arm before he can recover.

“Gentlemen, as fun as this is, Stark and I made an arrangement, and for all I know he’s calculating my compensation based on my performance today. So,” she prepares her web-shooters. “Sorry, I’ve got to cut this short.” She fires.

A drone flies past and wraps a wire around her wrist, dragging her out the huge terminal window and throwing her to the tarmac.

Her head cracks against the ground, disorienting her with its sharp pain. While it's not the worst thing she's had (anxiety attacks can be triggered by non-lethal bullet wounds if you've experienced trauma involving them before. Who'da thought?), It's definitely no fun. She takes some steady breaths, gives herself a once-over, _arms-legs-chest-neck-head you're fine_ , and sits up.

She turns to see a truck flying towards Black Panther and War Machine and prepares herself for the onslaught to her senses but is instead met with a soothing darkness and silence. She blinks and the darkness dissipates, the world becoming gradually louder.

Oh yeah. Stark's tech. Neat.

She gets up and jogs to the two men. "Hey!" She calls, stopping Rhodes from taking off too soon. "Can I get a lift? I get the feeling things aren't going quite as planned." He gives a small shake of his head and turns around, letting her climb onto his back before engaging the thrusters and taking flight.

It's bumpier than the jet, and the sharp turns he's making to follow the rouges make her dizzy. Not soon enough, she feels them slow and jumps off his back, landing next to the rest of her "team" and getting into the lineup like their in some sort of action movie.

There are a few tense moments of a standoff, and she really hopes that the rouges decide to throw in the towel because she can feel her body aching with the unusual amount of power she's had to put into only a short time of fighting.

But then the Captain in leading his team in a steady march towards them and she hears Black Widow mumble something, and she and the rest are following Stark into yet another battle.

Everything seems to fall into chaos after that. All she knows is one moment she's jumping from floating cars and the next her web is sliced by a metal frisbee. She ducks and rolls onto the hood of a truck and is once again face to face with Steve Rogers.

"Are you aware that your dinner plate defies the laws of physics?"

Whatever he's about to say dies on his lips and he tilts his head in confusion. "What?"

"Nothing, it's a Vine. I don't know how well you've adapted to the twenty-first century, but I doubt you've scoured the internet for memes. You should try it, might help you assimilate."

Rogers shakes his head. "Look, kid, there's a lot going on here that you don't understand."

"I'll give you that, but that doesn't really matter right now." She webs his legs and drags him closer, kicking him in the face and knocking him back into a nearby truck. She swings him around and he goes tumbling over the ground.

"You know," she calls as he stands. "It's amazing you even lived through a single battle in the war, your legs really do leave you vulnerable." She tries to web him again, but he uses the strength against her and she's flying through the air.

Michelle soon realizes that Rogers is a very spry senior citizen and _damn,_  he is  _not_ messing around. He tosses her around like a javelin and she doesn't stand much of a chance in hand to hand. To get some distance, she climbs onto a gangway.

"What did Stark tell you to get you here?" Rogers asks.

"Not much, just showed up in Queens and offered something pretty invaluable."

"His support?"

"His  _protection_." She adjusts her perch. "From the little research I could do on the way, you really jumped the gun on this one Cap. Sometimes you gotta work the system." She stands to take a few steps back. "Woulda thought you already knew that,  _super soldier._ " She flips around the gangway but is struck in the chest by Cap's shield, knocking the wind from her. The gangway screeches and falls on top of her. She has just enough time to catch it but struggles under the weight in her weakened state.

"You got heart kid, and potential." Rogers' voice breaks through the creaking of metal. "Even if you are from Queens. Don't let it go to waste."

 _"Like Brooklyn is any better!"_  She thinks as he runs off. Her foot slips and the weight becomes more difficult to hold up. She mutters some curses and tries to shove the thing off to get out from under it. With herculean effort, she throws the gangway off and scrambles away, panting and aching. The battle rages on, and honestly, can they please just take a breather? She can't be the only one who-

_“Holy shit!”_

Her thoughts are scattered as the shrinking dude suddenly grows to the size of a building. And the dude is  _laughing._ What the  _hell?_

Giant Dude tosses Colonel Rhodes like a ragdoll and she darts after him, latching onto his leg and stopping him from crashing into one of the planes. She keeps the web attached to him as he flies around, looking for an angle to take down Godzilla. She lets go and kicks him in the face, causing him to stumble.

She continues to swing around him, running through ideas. It's clear that their own forces won't do much, considering he's shaking off missles and bullets ndd seems more annoyed by her than anything. They have to use his strength against him, but how?

The sound of speeding metal suits and repulsor beams suddenly triggers an insignificant memory.

_"So Harry, what's your favorite scene from ‘Empire Strikes Back’?"_

_"Oh man, it's gotta be the whole 'I am your father' thing. I mean, who can't relate to their dad being evil incarnate?"_

_Peter and Ned laugh the tension away from Harry's blunt honesty. Ned continues the conversation. "I like the stuff that happened on Dagobah. We actually got to see what Jedi training is like. None of the other movies really did that."_

_"Yeah, being a Jedi would be the coolest thing ever." Peter sighs dreamily, the loser._

_"What about you Pete? You probably cried when Han was frozen." Harry teased._

_"Well, who wouldn't?" Peter laughed. "Nah, I really like the stuff that happened on Hoth. That first battle in the ships with the AT-AT walkers? It's really impressive with the technology they had at the time."_

_"Yeah, you would like all the technical stuff, nerd. Oh and quickly, backtracking, did you just say you want to be a_ Jedi _? The Sith are bviously_ y _the right choice."_

_Then the boys break into a debate on the true nature of the force, and Michelle goes back to her book._

The memory is gone in a flash, and she couldn't be more thankful for the losers she shadows.

"Hey!" She calls into the comms. "I have a plan! It's gonna take some teamwork though."

 _"We're open to suggestions kid, hit me,"_ Stark responds.

"Okay, you guys ever seen ‘Star Wars’?"

She takes the long-suffering sigh from Rhodes (followed by a  _"don't you start grilling us now, Rhodey, we're on the clock"_ ) as confirmation.

"You know that part," she pauses as she starts to swing low around Giant Dude's legs. "When they're on the snow planet, with the walkers?"

Stark and Rhodes quickly grasp her train of thought and start to charge as she ties Godzilla's legs closer and closer together. The two metal men deliver a mighty punch that sends him reeling, and he begins to topple over.

She gives a whoop of joy. Okay, that was actually  _awesome._  She just took down a colossal man with the  _Avengers_ , and she did it with a plan devised by  _nerds, what is her life?_

She's too distracted by her euphoria to notice one of the giant flailing limbs in front of her.

She sees stars as the impact blows her through the air. She sees the concrete get closer and closer, hears a shout over the comms, and then darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes? No? Maybe so? I thrive on feedback, so don't be scared to comment and critique!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is over and Michelle goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes i'm alive here's the chapter love y'all
> 
> Tw there's some description of self treatment of injuries so yeah stay safe guys

She swims through the murky darkness clouding her vision, an ache stretching all over her body. She tries to move her arms and legs to curl up in a ball and pass out again, but it's like her limbs are disconnected from her brain. She feels like she's floating on a cloud.

That is until she feels a zing along her spine that has her moving on instinct. 

She rolls as something lands next to her, hands and feet flailing out to fend off the thing that's after her. Her mask is half off, which makes things even worse. Whoever this is, if they see her face, then her identity will be compromised, and she can't let that happen, she won't-

"Kid! Hey!  _ Hey! _ It's me, same side!"

Warm metal grasps her wrists and keeps her in place. She shakes her head and sees Stark sans helmet through her swimming vision. She slumps down, her head falling back to the concrete.

"Holy  _ shit,"  _ She breathes out, pain racing through her as she tries to move again.

"Yeah, I know."

She squints up at him. Is that concern? No, must be the concussion. "Did we stop 'em?"

Stark grimaces. "Half of them. I'm going after the rest right now."

She stifles a groan and sits up on her knees. "Alright, let's go."

"What? No," he places a hand on her shoulder to stop her from standing. "You're done. You did a good job, but you gotta tap out now."

She has just enough energy to protest but her cuts her off with a firm look and a sharp squeeze to her shoulder. "You're going home. Happy's coming to get you right now."

And with that, he flies off after a quinjet and the Falcon. She tries to stand and fire a web, but she wobbles and is forced back on her knees. With a defeated sigh, she pulls down her mask and steadies herself, looking around the destroyed runway. Little-Big-Dude is on the ground, back to normal size, Hawkeye is groaning against some boxes, and he sees the robot cradling magic girl in the distance. She stands on shaky legs and heads into the terminal, looking for a place to sit down.

After falling asleep in one of the boarding areas, she is awoken by Happy nudging her shoulder. He helps her stand but she quickly pushes him away and follows him to the car. He looks like he wants to say something, but she is in no mood to talk and makes that clear by slamming her door. The divider is still up, so she buckles in and dozes on the way back to the hotel.

 

* * *

 

She perks up when the car finally stops, takes the long coat and puts it on before stepping out of the car. The sunset over Berlin is beautiful, and she kinda wishes she had her phone so she can take a picture, but instead she follows Happy into the hotel. There's still a tension hanging around the two of them, but Michelle pointedly ignores him and heads straight to her room, locking the door behind her.

She heads to the bathroom and removes the suit, and winces at what she sees in the mirror.

Her body is littered with bruises, all over her chest and back. She has a long gash down her leg, and the sharp twinge in her shoulder lets her know that it's been dislocated. She raises her chin and observes the whiplash marks from Captain America's shield, and gingerly brushes her fingers over her crooked nose and black eye.

Before this, the worst she's ever gotten had been a broken ankle and a gunshot wound in her shoulder from a car chase gone wrong. It took three days for any visible evidence to disappear, and a full week before she could move without pain.

She just went a few rounds with Steve Rogers and looks like a black and blue mosaic. How is she going to explain this to her mom?

She hobbles over to her duffel bag where she packed her first aid kit. She sets her equipment in front of her. First things first, she needs to relocate her shoulder and fix her nose.

She rolls up a rag she packed and stuffs it into her mouth as she stands. She tips her weight onto her leg and lets her arm dangle by her side. She rolls her body till her torso is angled upwards and she feels a tension growing in her back. With a slow breath through the cloth in her mouth, she presses her hand down and forces her shoulder back into alignment. The rag does an okay job of muffling her scream of pain, but it's still loud to her own ears, and her jaw still aches. She’s yet to bite her tongue with her enhanced strength, and she’s not excited to find out. She pants heavily and sits back down on the carpet, massaging her burning shoulder. 

After a minute of calm breathing, she walks back into the bathroom with the kit and leans her face over the sink. She feels along the cartilage for the break and firmly holds it in place. She lets all the air out of her lungs and quickly cracks it back into place. The acute pain is swept away by the burning in her throat, and she coughs as blood dribbles past her lips into the sink. She tilts forward and the burning rushes up to her nose, the stream leaking out of her nostril and allowing her to breathe. She lets the porcelain sink stain red until the bleeding stops, bringing a wad of tissues to her nose and turning on the faucet. The pink water runs down the drain and she stuffs some more tissues up her nose, tossing the used ones in the sink.

With the worst of her injuries taken care of, she sits on the edge of the bathtub and lifts her gashed leg into the basin. She fills the tub with an inch of lukewarm water and cups some water in her hands, letting it run down her leg and wash away some of the blood and flayed skin. She opens one of her alcohol wipes and quickly swipes them across the gash, hissing at the sting. The harsh movement causes it to start bleeding again, but at least it's clean. She fully undresses and steps into the shower, draining the tub before turning on the shower head.

She scrubs away the sweat and blood and grim she's accumulated and lets her strained muscles relax under the warm spray. She takes things slow, going over the day's events as she washes her hair. It still feels too surreal. The only evidence that it happened besides her injuries is the new suit tucked away in her bag. She turns her face directly under the shower head, some childish part of her thinking it might be able to wash away her anxiety and racing thoughts.

She steps out and wraps her leg in gauze and changes into her pajamas. She reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone charger settling onto the mattress. She opens her camera on her phone and begins recording herself like some kind of story-time vlogger. She didn't bring her journal on the trip, so this will have to suffice.

Much like her journal entries, she forgets all her preconceived notions of articulation and lets her mouth run wild in the way she can only do when she's alone. She tries to keep things in chronological order, but often ends up backtracking to add more detail. She can't help but move around her bed and pace the room as she recounts the day's events, gesturing wildly to no one and speaking as if she were having a conversation with herself, which, okay, she pretty much is.

She must get loud at one point because there's a knock on the door and she has to drop from the ceiling to open it. Happy stands in a bathrobe on the other side of the door and tells her that the hotel walls are thin. She gives him a half-hearted apology and continues to rant to her phone.

When she finally gets all of her thoughts out of her head, her clock reads 3:46am and her phone is at twelve percent. She plugs in her phone for the third time and stretches out on the bed. She buries her face in the pillow and promptly falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

Happy wakes her up around 8 o'clock like the asshole he is. She puts on some sweatpants and stumbles out of her room to the free breakfast. She knows Happy is talking to Stark on the phone by the bar, but she honestly couldn't care less at the moment. She's too busy inhaling food and trying to keep her eyes open. She'll worry about whatever potential shit show she's gotten into when she isn't about to pass out from exhaustion.

The rest of the trip home is a blur. They get to the airport and wait a few hours for their plane. Happy is still taking long calls from various people, and their Stark Jet is delayed because of whatever is happening with the Avengers. She dozes until their plane arrives, and falls back asleep before the plane even takes off.

  
  


Stark meets up with them once they're back in the city, an air of mastered nonchalance that her bullshit detector sees right through. He's quickly realized how perceptive she can be, and tries to force the conversation where he wants it to go.

"How was the flight? Top marks, I assume. It is a Stark Jet after all." He gestures to their mirroring black eyes. "Hey, would you look at that? We match."

"Yeah," she says after a pause. "The Captain is a real 'all or nothing' kind of guy, isn't he?"

His face darkens for the briefest moment, and she knows her message has gotten across; she'll play along, but he shouldn't expect her to just drop things because he wants her to.

"Don't worry, I've gotten really good at hiding things from my mom." She shifts around and turns to him expectantly. She takes pride in making powerful white men uncomfortable. She interrupts him before he can speak again. "I know you're not going to tell me anything I don't already know, so I'd appreciate it if we didn't beat around the bush." She rummages in her bag for something she'd printed with the help of the front desk at the hotel. "If you could sign this and mail it back to our address? I typed up a document that looks official enough for my mom to believe it's some kind form confirming that I was at the 'retreat.' Don't think it could fool any bureaucrats, but she won't think twice."

He takes the sheet of paper and skims it. "....not bad."

"I had _some_ talents before becoming a scientific oddity."

He nods, writes his signature with a pen she's provided, and hands it back to her. "So, we should have a discussion about your future. I know, all you kids hate that question, but I can give you the outline. So-"

He's cut off by a honk and Happy's angry shout, and their conversation is halted while he navigates them back to her house. She remains stoic as he tries to get her to laugh about Happy being the "Forehead of Security", whatever that is.

"Really? Not even a smile? What happened to our banter back in Germany? I thought that was great." She shrugs, looking out the window as they pull up to her house.

Happy goes to get her bag, and Stark resumes their discussion. "So, I'm gonna trust you with that suit, okay? Don't go wearing it around for costume parties, it's an expensive piece of equipment."

"You're just letting me keep the suit?"

He gives a _duh_ look. "It doesn't fit me."

Her eyes narrow. "What's the catch."

"No more 'Miss Independent.' Kind of. We'll just be monitoring you now, make sure you don't go off the rails or get yourself killed. You'll report to Happy, give me feedback on the suit for upgrades, all that stuff so we can set you up for success."

She scoffs. Wow. He's got her on a leash now.  "Any other rules, Big Brother?"

"Yes. Don't do anything I would do, or anything I wouldn't do." He holds his thumb and index finger close together. "The little grey line right there? That's where you are, and that's where I want you to stay. If we ever need you for anything, we'll contact you."

"What about this 'internship?' You need to hold up your end of the deal too."

"I can get you a position on PR if you want, but we'll focus on that once you're out of high school. Right now, it can be used to excuse your _extracurricular activities_  if you so desire. And yes," he lowers his sunglasses slightly to meet her eyes. "I am open to discussions about financial aid. We can discuss that as those issues come up." He pushes his sunglasses back up and settles against his seat. "I think that covers it. Good luck out there MJ."

"Don't call me that," she tells him with a glare and steps out of the car. She grabs the case and her bag from Happy and turns to leave, but the window rolls down and Stark leans his head out, holding something in his hand. She takes them in her hand and frowns.

Iron Man and War Machine key chains?

"For your brother," he smirks.

"....Thanks."

The drive off just as she gets to her door and her mom gives her a tight hug and ushers her inside.

"How was it? Did you have fun?" She gasps when she sees her black eye. "Oh gosh, what happened?"

"Some idiot named Steve clocked me with some equipment. It's fine. And yeah, it was pretty cool."

"Mac and cheese is in the oven, you can grab a plate and we can talk at the table if you want."

She winces, shouldering her bag. "I'll take the food, but I'm beat to hell. Think I'm gonna turn in. Couldn't really sleep on the plane."

Her mom rubs her back and guides her to the stairs with a disappointed sigh. "Okay, you get some rest, we can talk tomorrow."

"Love you, mom."

She gives her a kiss on the cheek. "Love you too, honey."

 

* * *

 

Summer starts two weeks later, and it gives Michelle the time to finally get the hang of the new suit, and solidify herself as a vigilante of New York City. An excitement starts to run through the burroughs as sightings begin to pop up all over the city, Queens beginning to wear their little crime stopper like a badge of honor. 

In some people eyes, her activities are reckless and attract evil doers, The Daily Bugle trying to label her a detriment to the city. They bring up a fair point, but Michelle decides to look at it like this; if she’s drawing them out, then it just makes her job of keeping peace in the city easier, because they’d still be around if she was there or not.

She tries to keep her disinterest in Spinnerette unassuming, claiming that with everything’s that happened over the years, something like a mutant in a leotard stopping petty crimes is small fry. That doesn’t stop from Peter, Ned, and Harry coming up with theories, showing her videos, or the web slinger becoming a commonplace in their superhero geek outs.

Michelle just reads her novels, doodles in her margins, and remains mostly invisible.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now where getting to the stuff that i love to write! (I say that every time but srsly I'm so excited to do my version of homecoming) Sorry for so long of a wait. I'm hoping you guys are still with me. Ciao!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What starts as a normal day soon becomes a catastrophe of frustrations and inquiries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Look who's updating so soon! I've been trying to write more stuff beforehand to keep updates more consistent. And now we finally get to the meat of this fic! I hope you guys enjoy!

Michelle rubs the sleep from her eyes as the train rocks down the tracks, silently observing the other morning commuters in the cart. While the cooler temperatures are a welcomed change, the late nights and early mornings that come with the new school year are less than ideal, considering the stress and exhaustion from the “internship.”

At the moment, the morning has every indication of segueing into a mind-numbingly boring day.

Oh, how wrong she was.

Nothing was out of the ordinary at first. She walked onto campus twenty minutes before the bell, bobbing her head to Aretha Franklin and maneuvering her way through the cliques on the path to her locker, and went to class a little early to read.

Things didn't start getting tricky until Chemistry. She was running a little low on web fluid, and how was she supposed to make it during class with Peter sitting two feet from her? Not to mention Mr. Hunter pacing the class while giving his lecture?

She had no choice but to sneak the ingredients into a beaker in one of the desks and mix it together in small incriminates throughout the period. She made only enough to get her through the next two days, if she was lucky.

Mood thoroughly soured, Michelle slinked her way through the crowded cafeteria to her designated spot at the end of the loser table.

She’s in the middle of a rather enthralling passage of her book when Harry plops himself down in front of her instead of on the opposite side of Peter and Ned.

“Hey, Michelle! How you been?”

“Wouldn't you like to know, Osborn,” she griped, adjusting her seat and trying to fall back into the familiar rhythm of page turning and melancholy.

“Aw, don't be like that! Look, I seriously need to talk to you.”

With an annoyed huff, she closes her book and meets his stormy blue eyes.

“You think we could meet up tonight to study for the math test we have on Friday? You're the best person at math I know, and we have the same period, and you know how Valenzuela can be _totally ruthless_ , and today is my only free night 'cause Liz has her party tomorrow and Dad doesn't want me going out on Friday because he has a-”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Why can't you just ask your girlfriend? She'd be happy to help you.”

“Liz is already swamped with planning Homecoming and helping Harrington schedule practices for Decathlon, not to mention she's a freaking _senior_ , she's literally stressed to hell. I'm not gonna bother her with that! Besides, you're not busy-”

“How would you know? What if my mom takes a late shift and I need to babysit tonight? Caleb couldn't change a diaper to save his life.”

He leaned over, a pitiful frown on his lips. “ _Please,_ Michelle. I'm gonna fail this test. I _need_ your help!”

Michelle grumbled and briefly considered smacking herself in the head with her paperback. “Fine, whatever, I don't care. When do you want me to come over?”

Harry inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Yeah, you think we could do it at your house? Dad's pretty slammed, I don't wanna be there if something goes wrong during the meeting today, especially if he isn't home late.”

Contrary to popular belief, Michelle does have a shred of compassion in her withering soul. “Fine, come over around five thirty. I'll text my mom.”

Harry whoops and reaches into his back pocket. “ _Thank you,_ Michelle! You're a lifesaver!”

 _Truer than you think_ is what she'd like to say, but is too surprised by the fifty dollar bill being presented to her. “What….is this?”

Harry frowns. “Um, it's called money. It what you give to people in exchange for goods and or services. Please don't tell me you've never seen a fifty before.”

“Not in person,” she quips and gingerly accepts the crisp paper. “You don't have to pay me, you know. You got lucky enough to catch me on a good day, the kind where I believe in human decency.”

“Just take it, MJ.” He taps a rhythm on the table and walks back to the other end where Peter and Ned are discussing something undoubtedly nerdy as hell.

"’ _Michelle_ ’, jackass," she mumbles, opening her book and trying to get back into her book when she feels eyes on her.

She turns to see Peter watching her before quickly turning away, pushing his soggy green beans around his tray. She sees pink rising up his neck.

_He should use sunscreen, I've heard heat rash is a bitch._

 

* * *

 

Study hall is their next period, and she and her losers go to the auditorium to meet for decathlon. She, Peter, and Harry are out for this practice session, so Ned walks onto the stage to meet up with the others. While Harry and Peter chat, she goes to talk to Mr. Harrington.

She’d been dreading this conversation for over a week.

“Michelle, it’s _Nationals_ . Are you sure you can’t take _one_ weekend off?”

“I’m not saying it’s off the table completely, just….if Stark calls me in for something, I need to be there. So ideally, I should only be considered as an alternate for now.”

Okay, so she hasn’t completely given up hope on going on another “retreat”. As unlikely as it is, the superhero part of her is nagging that she can’t take chances.

“Please, you’ve never even been in the same _room_ with Tony Stark!” Flash calls from a nearby table, smugly flipping through his magazine.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Cindy calls from the stage.

“Michelle’s stepping down. Might not even go to D.C.” Sally says from her position on the floor.

The team breaks out into a series of protests and whines, Harry going as far to whisper “ _traitor_ ” while nudging Peter in the side, grinning despite the other boy sending him a half-hearted glare.

“Really? Right before Nationals?” Liz asks, disappointment dripping from her voice.

“She’s busy, you guys!” Peter speaks up. “She’s doing as much as she can trying to stay on the team. She quit Debate and Yearbook already.”

The silence that followed his statement almost made Michelle squirm.

“I-I mean, it looks like that, anyway. She hasn’t talked about those. I mean, you don’t talk a lot. Not that it’s a bad thing! I just noticed….uh….”

“Well, Flash, it looks like you’re in for Michelle,” Liz saves Peter from further embarrassment by turning to the boy behind her.

Flash winces theatrically. “Oof, I don’t know. I’ve got a hot date with Black Widow coming up.”

The students’ attention is drawn by the chime of a bell. “That is false,” Abe deadpans.

“Guys, what have I told you about using the bells for comedic purposes?”

 

* * *

 

The last bell of the day rings and Michelle speed walks off campus. She could easily pass all the other kids, do some sort of back handspring over them if she felt like showing off, but she refused to make herself a suspect. It's already bad enough that they operate on completely opposite times and Spinnerette happened to appear a few months after her Dad died, which was only a week after visiting a biotech company.

Michelle used to be a master at subtly? What changed?

She ducks into an alleyway, makes sure it's clear of creepers and homeless people, and changes into her suit. Once that's done, she scales the building and secures her backpack to the wall, confident that the webs will hold and no one will steal it.

Patrol is…. alright. She stops someone from stealing a bike and ends up smashing him into a sign when she webs him up, helps an elderly Dominican woman with directions, de-escalates a fight between two dude-bros, and webs up a guy that _looked_ like he was breaking into a car, much to the frustration of the tenants in the nearby buildings.

All in all, she's sees it as a job well done.

As the sun begins to set, she makes her way back to her backpack and pulls out her journal, writing up her report for the night. She does daily logs in a journal she never lets anyone see, and types up a summarized version on the weekend for Happy.

She doubts he even reads them, but she likes having a record of this sort of stuff.

Her mom isn't too happy with Michelle going through a notebook almost every two weeks, but she's not stupid enough to try and take her laptop wherever she goes.

She finishes up and stretches her wrist, taking another bite out of her churro. While she's happy she could help today and every day, knowing that she was able to hold her own against _Avengers_ makes her long to be back in the fray. She could help on such a larger scale if they just stopped treating her with safety gloves.

Her grumbling is interrupted by a crash somewhere below her. She looks out to see an ATM station being commandeered by some burly dudes in cheap Avengers masks.

One thing that she loves about being Spinnerette besides being able to help is definitely this side of crime; the downright ridiculous things she gets to see.

She hops down to the street and sneaks over to the ATM. She sees the guys slice open the machine with some sort of power saw and start loading their bags with wads of cash, snickering to themselves about how “this is too easy” and “we can hit like, _five_ other places tonight.”

She leans back against the glass and crosses her arms over her chest, rolling her head before clearing her throat. “Forget your pin number, gentlemen?”

The guys swivel around in cartoonish shock, and she can't help but grin devilishly under her mask.

“Well clutch my pearls, if it isn't the _Avengers_! Why, isn't this just an honor!”

“Captain America” charges and she easily stops him and flips him over. “Thor” tries to smack her with some large piece of a equipment, which she webs to a wall and proceeds to vault over the Asgardian. She sticks to the ceiling and teases “The Hulk” by dodging his slow punches and then kicking him in the face. All the while, she gives her own colorful commentary:

“Cap! Lovely to see you again! It's been too long. Thor, if I knew you'd be here I would have dressed up for the occasion! Dr. Banner, truly an honor, big fan of your work. You're looking a little grumpy right now, how about you take a nap?”

“Iron Man” aims some sort of tractor beam gun at her and stops her mid-strike, tossing her to the wall. He also hits his teammates, which is just unfortunate for him.

“Stark! Didn't expect to see you here, considering you're a billionaire.”

She knocks “Iron Man” back and webs him to a wall, pulling off his mask. “Okay, so, how did you lame-os get access to tech like this?”

One of the goons lifts a sparking ray gun and aims it at her, and she jumps out of the way just as it fires. The beam slices through the front of the building and reaches the bodega on the corner, a zigzagging line of destruction in its wake. She shakes herself and runs over to the store, helping the man and his cat get out of the building safely.

By the time she looks back to the bank, the robbers are gone, leaving a smoldering building behind them.

The initial hilarity of this encounter has dissipated. She needs to tell someone about this, _now._

 

* * *

 

She jogs over a rooftop as the dial tone rings, barely containing herself as Happy’s gruff voice answers the call.

“Happy! Something big just happened! I just tried to stop an ATM robbery and these dudes had these crazy high tech weapons and they-”

_“Okay hold on, take a breath, I don’t have time for the play-by-play. Can’t this wait ‘til you send in your report?”_

“Like you even read those!” She splutters a little, reminding herself that she doesn’t have time to pick a fight. “No, this can’t wait! This is something potentially huge, you need to tell Stark-”

 _“Actually, what I_ need _to do is make sure Moving Day goes as planned.”_ She hears loud sounds of equipment and voices shouting at each other. As he’s made clear, he’s too distracted to take something like this seriously. If he would in the first place.

“Fine, then get me a line to Stark so I can tell him myself.”

 _“Oh, so you think if I don’t have time, he_ does _? Look, send in your weekly report, I’ll take a look, and_ I’ll _decide if it’s worth his time. For now, just worry about helping little old ladies cross the street and saving cats from trees.”_

“Happy, no! Just listen to-”

The line cuts, and it takes all of her self-control not to smash her phone into the ground. She lets out a short yell of frustration and storms back to her backpack, cursing up a storm and coining a few new colorful nicknames for Happy that have her looking forward to being this angry face to face with him so she could use them.

She webs her way deeper into Queens and hops onto her roof. Her HUD informs her that it’s almost six o’clock, and she sighs with relief. Mom’s shift won’t end until ten, and she won’t be home until eleven at the earliest. Caleb’s been home for a while and she hasn’t gotten any calls, so she assumes that he and Delilah are alive and well. She steps down to her skylight and undoes the latch, pulling her mask off with her other hand and shaking out her curls. She can’t wait to take a shower and pretend to yell at Happy and Stark.

She drops down onto her bed, but instead of meeting her springy mattress, her foot catches on a textbook that sends her tumbling to her floor.

She sits up and turns to see Harry Osborn absolutely still on her bed, mouth agape, eyes bulging, and his hands holding a pair of scissors and paper, frozen mid-cut of his flashcards. The scissors drop onto the carpet with a dull thump.

The movement snaps Michelle from her own shock and sends her scrambling to her feet, slapping a hand over Harry’s mouth before his sharp inhales can be released into screams. She shushes him harshly, grabbing his wrists and stopping his squirming.

“Harry! Stop!”

He throws his head back and pulls himself from her grasp, hands flying. “What the _fuck!_ Holy shit, Michelle, you’re fucking-”

“ _Harry! Shut the fuck up!_ This-this is a dream! A crazy fever dream from the school lunch, this isn’t real, thi-”

“ _You’re_ Spinnerette! This whole time?”

“No, I’m not! Why are you even _here?”_

He shakes his head and glares at her incredulously. _“You_ invited me! We were gonna study for math! Your brother let me in! And are you actually trying to tell me you’re _not_ Spinnerette!”

“It’s a costume!”

“Don’t try to bullshit me, Michelle!”

Their shouting match is interrupted by Caleb opening the door to her room, Delilah on his hip. He takes in the scene and looks between the two teenagers.

“Yeah, MJ, you’re not getting out of this one.”

“Caleb! Why didn’t you call me? You can’t just let strangers in our home!”

“You invited him! I thought you’d remember that!”

Both boys begin to shout at her, and Delilah is becoming distressed at the loud voices and begins to whimper. Michelle takes the baby from her brother and points to out her door. “Harry, I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Caleb takes the hint and starts to gather Harry’s things, and herding him down the stairs with her.

“You’re actually just kicking me out of the house after that! Nothing! MJ, C'mon! I deserve an explanation!”

She stops Harry just before she pushes him out the door. “I will tell you about this tomorrow at school. Don’t breathe a word of this to _anyone._ I’m trustingyou, Harry. If I can’t trust you, I can’t let you leave, and that’s just going to make things harder, do you understand me?”

They hold each other's gaze, and something flickers in Harry’s expression, and his face hardens in resolution. “I won’t. You can trust me.”

Now that they’ve reached an understanding, she pushes him out the door. “Good luck in math.”

She leans back against the door and holds Delilah tightly in her arms, breathing in her soft baby scent and apple cinnamon shampoo.

What has she gotten herself into?

Caleb sits down next to her and sighs.

“You’re so screwed.”

She hates when her brother is right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo? What do you guys think? Can Harry be trusted? Will Michelle get through to Stark? Will Peter and MJ actually interact with each other? Find out in the next update, maybe!

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions about this AU or just want to say hi, shoot me an ask or dm me [here](https://thepancakepenguin.tumblr.com/)! Thanks for reading!


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